The Merry in Christmas
by ecv
Summary: Written for the 2019 Bonesology Christmas Challenge. Prompts based on the letters in 'MERRY CHRISTMAS'. The prompt word will appear in each chapter.
1. Mittens

_A/N 1: So, full disclosure. I apparently can't use the reading comprehension skills that I teach my students (ha) and completely misread the challenge I wanted to use. So I deleted the first story because I had to make some adjustments and actually include the challenge words. Many you will have already read this first one, but it follows the challenge now, so I feel better about it._

_A/N 2: Please, please read the author notes/synopsis before each entry. I am not good at writing holiday stories that are nothing but happy, fun times with the kids. While I am definitely a Booth and Brennan together kind of fan, I like the challenges they take to get there. Or to get to each other. I will leave clear descriptions of each story before you read it so you can skip the angsty ones if they aren't your style. _

_Synopsis: Today is the M in merry and the word is mittens. Booth and Brennan take a weekend holiday together to make new memories. _

_Hope everyone enjoys. Happy holidays._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

He wandered from store to store, one shopper among many, all looking for that perfect holiday gift.

Well, maybe not all of them. Some of them wore a look of desperation, to the point that they'd buy almost any gift, perfect or not, if it meant getting them out of that mall.

Booth was not one of those people. Not yet. There was still plenty of time for him to find something for Bones. Something that was special and meaningful. Something that somehow represented everything she was and continued to be.

Brainy Smurf and Jasper the Pig were hard things to follow up on every year, but he always tried. She was worth the effort.

In the back of his mind, he feared he his own face was starting to mirror the other shoppers. The look that meant he was ready to give up and just buy a coffee mug with something ridiculous on it. A dancing skeleton or something that would only make sense to her. But it wouldn't be what he wanted and he wasn't the type of man who gave up easily.

He already had a necklace at home, hidden in the garage. Booth was forced to come up with new and interesting hiding places each year. Last year, Christine had accidentally stumbled across the gift. She'd brought it out to show everyone the pretty sparkles. The memory of his reaction and Bones's laugh brought a grin to his face. At least they had a nice memory from the whole thing.

The year before that, he'd actually caught Bones snooping, looking for her gift. Sure, she'd denied it, but her lying hadn't improved much and he'd seen right through her. Still, she'd felt bad enough that she'd stopped looking. And he'd found a new hiding spot.

So this year, the gift was actually tucked into the engine of the classic car he was working on. Buried so far down, a casual glance would never see it. And that necklace was special; it was decorated with the birthstones of their children, all three of them. But it wasn't exactly what he was looking for.

Rubbing a frustrated hand through his hair, he stepped out of the stream of people and leaned against the wall. Tipping his head and taking a deep breath, his eyes landed on an advertiesement across from him. Pine trees were covered in fresh snow and in the distance, there was a house. A typical winter scene from any place in the country.

But it gave him an idea. And as he straightened again, heading toward the exit, he expanded on it until he could see it.

Maybe, instead of more things this year, he'd give her more memories instead. The kind they'd talk about on a Christmas far into the future.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was hard to do anything in secret with someone who hated surprises. So Booth was forced to wait until he went into work on Monday to start planning. And given that he wanted to do the whole thing the next weekend, he didn't have a lot of time. Shutting his door to prevent interruptions, he stacked his desk with files to make himself look busy. If any of the agents noticed that none of the files moved the entire day, they didn't say anything.

Four hours and four emails later, he finally found the first thing he was looking for. That made it easier for everything else to quickly fall into place. Except for one thing.

A quick phone call had Aubrey knocking on his door. Booth gave a wave of his hand and Aubrey entered, closing the door behind him.

"Need some help on these files?" Aubrey asked. Booth had refused to explain what he needed on the phone and now Aubrey thought he understood why. That pile of work at his elbow looked insurmountable.

"What?" Booth replied. His voice was distracted as he waited for something to come out of the printer. "The files? They are just for disguise. Old cases I haven't managed to file yet. I didn't want to be disturbed." Booth grabbed the entire stack and dropped them on the floor behind his desk.

Intrigued, Aubrey sat. "But you said you needed something."

"I do," Booth said. He handed Aubrey the papers in his hand. "I'm hoping I can get a favor. A really, really big favor. It's kind of short notice. Like, this weekend kind of short notice."

Aubrey only half listened as he looked at what Booth had handed to him. "Are these tickets to the Embassy Chef Challenge? The food there is supposed to be amazing." He let out a low whistle. "These tickets are pricey." He made a move to hand the papers back. "Are you taking Dr. Brennan?"

"No," Booth said sharply. "And neither are you. Those tickets are for you. In return for watching my kids all weekend. This weekend," he clarified, making sure Aubrey knew exactly what he was agreeing to.

He continued to hold the papers out, looking offended. "I will watch them for nothing, Booth. Those kids are my family. All you had to do was ask."

Booth crossed his arms over his chest, stubbornness deepening the lines around his eyes. "Then consider them a Christmas gift from Bones and I." Booth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really want to do this weekend with Bones," he said, "and I just wanted you to watch Christine and Hank. It wasn't a bribe or because I thought you wouldn't. It's just a thank you because I was sure you would and I didn't want you to think I was taking advantage."

Aubrey pulled his hand back and folded the tickets carefully before tucking them into his pocket. The man rarely asked for anything, didn't he realize that? Knowing he'd made Booth uncomfortable, Aubrey let it drop. "Do you have something special planned?"

"It's a surprise," Booth said quickly, not wanting Aubrey to accidentally say something. "Part of her Christmas. Something besides jewelry and crazy African statues she'll use to decorate with."

Unable to disagree with that one, Aubrey shook his head in sympathy. The last item she'd brought into the house still made him uncomfortable every time he was over. Painted eyes on a statue should never move like that. "I won't tell her," he promised. "When do you want me to pick up the kids?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I need to ask you something, Bones," Booth said. They were tucked next to each other in bed, the lights turned out. Booth had waited on purpose, not wanting her to see something in his eyes that would give the whole thing away.

"Okay?" Brennan said, her voice wary.

"Will you pack a suitcase for the weekend? Warm weather clothes. Mittens, hat, winter coat. Enough for Friday night until Sunday afternoon?"

It wasn't what she'd expected and it took a second for her brain to catch up. "Are we going undercover?"

Booth chuckled at the hint of excitement in her voice. "No," he said. "Unless you consider a married couple spending a weekend without their children undercover. We're just going to be us. A Christmas surprise, I guess we could call it."

A thousand questions raced through her mind and Booth could almost see them floating in the air. But in the end, she managed to surprise him by asking only one. "Sounds interesting. Are childcare arrangements taken care of?"

"Aubrey. Along with his Christmas present. He was a little angry I offered him tickets to the Embassy Chef Challenge as payment for the weekend. So I told him to consider them Christmas gifts instead." Brennan felt him shrug. "The man wasn't too angry to take them."

"I'm sure he wasn't. The food is supposed to be excellent." Her fingers found his face in the dark and traced down his cheek. "I'll look forward to the weekend. I'm sure whatever you planned will be wonderful."

Booth closed his eyes at the gentle touch. He certainly hoped so.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They managed to sneak out early on Friday. Brennan had offered to take the children to daycare, giving Booth time to pack a few additional items in the SUV. With all of the winter gear, it was easy to hide it away from curious eyes.

Headed northwest, away from the noise of the city and toward the mountains, the pair felt more relaxed than they had in weeks. Why violent crime always seemed to spike around the holidays wasn't a mystery, what family didn't have issues after all, but it often led to sleepless nights and a string of cases that seemed to never end.

"I silenced my phone, except for Aubrey's number," Booth admitted as they drove higher into the mountains. "And he has the address. So we shouldn't be disturbed."

Rolling her head toward him, Brennan smiled. "I did the same. I am very excited to see what you've come up with for us."

"It's part of your Christmas," Booth said, reaching over to take her hand. He brought it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers. "Instead of things, I thought we could make some new memories this year. Just the two of us."

"Worried that Christine will find your gift again?" she teased, happy when a smile flashed across his face. He didn't do that enough, smile like that. "But I understand what you mean. We went from partners to parents. Except for that first holiday when I was pregnant, there was never a year when it was just us. Not," she added, "that I haven't loved most of them that I've had since the day we met."

He didn't need to ask why she'd said most instead of all. Even the year they'd been locked in the Lab had been better than the year they'd spent apart and the following one he'd spent with Hannah.

"Well, hopefully," he said, making the final turn that would bring them to their destination, "you will love this one as well."

Slowing the car at the top of the drive, he smiled at the look of anticipation in her eyes as they rounded the final curve that brought the house into view. The white farmhouse was decorated for the season, with Christmas lights on the wraparound porch. A single pine tree was decorated with colored lights next to the sidewalk. It was more than Booth had dared hope for when he made the reservations and they hadn't seen the inside yet.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning in time to see her exit the vehicle. Unsure if that was a good sign or bad, he put the SUV in park and watched her slowly walk up to the tree and dance her fingers along the branches. It wasn't until he saw her brush at her cheeks that Booth climbed from the driver's seat and approached her slowly.

"Bones?" he asked. "Are those good tears or bad?" Jesus, he'd screwed this whole thing up somehow. It would cost him the price of the reservations, but he would take them straight back home if she hated the place. It was hard to believe she could though, looking at it from where he was standing.

That she took too long to answer sent his heart into overdrive. "When I first saw the tree, it reminded me of the one outside the jail. The one that you and Parker gave me," she explained unnecessarily. Booth would know what she was talking about. Her fingers brushed at the branches again as she turned toward him. The lights reflected off the tears in her eyes that hadn't fallen, making them dance with color. "Up until that moment, it was one of the best gifts I have ever received. I've received so many wonderful ones since then. But it still stands out as one of my favorites."

"Okay," Booth said hesitantly. What he remembered was the look in her eyes when she saw it, and finding someone to jump start the SUV when it was time to go. Parker's delight at being part of the surprise. Good memories for him as well. "But there's more here, Bones. More than just a tree behind this," he said, motioning toward her face before tucking his hands into his pockets.

Stepping to him, she tucked an arm into his and leaned into his side. "The house reminded me of a different one for a moment." Her head came to rest on his shoulder. "Just that heartbeat when I thought I saw something else in its place. Memories over memories."

"The mighty hut?" he asked. He squinted his eyes toward the accommodations. "I can see it. The white, with the windows lit up. It does remind you of that place a little bit." Pulling his arm free, he wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing a hand up and down her arm. "I go by that place once in a while. Just to see what the new owners have done with it. But nothing ever changes. I sometimes wonder if the inside has even been fixed."

He could have easily looked up the new owners, but he never had. Some part of his heart wouldn't allow him to know who was making a life in the place he at one time thought he would grow old and die in.

Brennan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This wasn't a conversation she'd planned on having now or perhaps ever. Booth, feeling her shoulders rise, looked down at her. "Bones?"

"It was. Fixed," she clarified. "It looks just as it did before that terrible day ever happened. I made sure of it. It was our home, the first one we'd ever shared as a family. I wasn't going to allow it to be destroyed. We weren't going to be destroyed and neither was that house." Her shoulders had stiffened as the words had fallen from her lips, her voice as cold as the air that surrounded them.

Oh shit. Without another word, he knew the answer to the question he hadn't asked. He heard it in her voice. And maybe, he'd always known. That's why he'd never taken the time to look up the new owners. And while he knew he should just lead them inside and let it drop, he knew he wasn't going to be able to. "Who owns the house now, Bones?" he asked, wanting to hear her say it.

"I had Wendell work on it that entire summer," she said, not answering his question. Instead, she pulled herself free from him and went to the back of the SUV to grab her suitcase. If she noticed the additional items he'd tossed back there, she didn't say. "He worked a little slower, but I paid him for every second he was there. So in a way, it helped both of us."

Coming up behind her, he grabbed his own gear. Closing the back of the SUV, he led her up on the porch to where a swing moved back and forth gently. Their breath was visible as Booth unlocked the door and led her inside. "We still own the house, don't we?" he asked, answering her own question. Thinking about it for a moment, he realized he wasn't surprised. If she'd sold it, he would have had to sign paperwork or something. And he'd never been asked to. "Why do we still own an empty house?"

Ignoring his question, her eyes took in the main room. It was much too big for two people, but Brennan still sighed in pleasure. "Oh, Booth," she said, ducking her head into doorways before heading toward the sliding glass doors in the rear of the first floor, "it's perfect."

Her voice trailed off on the last word as she stared out the window. He wanted to hear about their old house, but hesitated to push. This was about making new memories, not reliving old ones.

"We need to talk about the house, Bones."

Her back was to him as she stared out the glass, but she could clearly see him in the reflection. "At first, I did hide it from you. The fact that I had it fixed. But I always planned on talking to you about it so we could make a decision. Then there was Pops and gambling and the new baby and Jared and you almost dying again. My head injury. It seemed as if one thing after another kept coming at us so we couldn't get a break."

Coming up to wrap his arms around her, Booth pulled her against him and stared out at the view. "I'm not upset about it. A little surprised maybe. But I never really thought about it, to be honest. Too many good and bad memories tangled together with that place. I try to only remember the good ones. So asking what had happened with it would have forced me to confront the bad. Maybe I wasn't ready before now."

Knowing what was out beyond the glass still didn't prepare him for actually seeing it. A frozen pond glowed underneath the moon that had risen in the clear night sky. More trees, decorated like the one in front of the house dotted the edge of the water. It was almost too perfect.

A nice contrast to the serious discussion they were suddenly immersed in. "So what should we do with it?" Booth asked. "A house should be lived in. Not left to rot the years away. There is a family out there that could make wonderful memories in it."

Brennan shrugged. "I make sure it gets cleaned once a month. We don't have to decide tonight, Booth. Another month or two won't matter. Now that we both know, we can decide together." She patted his arms where they wrapped around her waist. "It's a shame we didn't bring our ice skates," Brennan said, looking up in time to see the smug look cross Booth's face. "You brought them?"

"That was half the reason I rented this place," he said. Releasing her, he grabbed her bag to carry up the stairs with his. She followed, looking inside more rooms, eventually joining him in the master suite.

"I know exactly what I want to do first," she said behind him.

Thinking she meant skating, Booth turned only to fall backwards onto the bed when she gave him a firm shove. Straddling him, Brennan bent her head toward his.

"I love the way you think," he said before he quit thinking at all.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The ice beneath his feet brought back memories of his childhood, of hockey on frozen ponds and laughter that lit up the night.

It was only the two of them, but Booth knew it would be just as memorable as the last time he'd gone ice skating with only her. It was one of his really good memories, before the tumor and everything that came after. During the difficult times, he'd held on to those moments like a lifeline, knowing if they'd found their way there once, surely they could do it again.

Her cheeks were rosy beneath the gray knit hat, and both wore mittens on their hands, but not once had they complained about the cold. "Having fun, Bones?" he asked, sliding in front of her and skating backwards so he could see her face.

"I can't imagine a better way to start the weekend." Her eyes narrowed as she watched him skate. "I never could get the hang of skating like that," she said, managing to look grumpy despite how content she was.

"It's nice to know I can still do something better than you," he teased. "I thought, maybe after this, you could take me inside and check me for evidence. Just in case you missed something from all those years ago." It was about new memories, but that didn't mean they couldn't expand on the old too.

Brennan shivered and Booth tipped his head toward her in question. But she shook her head. Her reaction had nothing to do with the cold. "I don't miss evidence. But I would love to reenact that afternoon knowing the ending will be very different."

Booth fought back his own shiver at her very clear suggestion. "I would definitely love a new memory to go with that one," he admitted. "I don't know if I've ever recited the names of so many saints in such a short time span."

Eyes sparkling, she revealed her own secret. "I recited the names of every bone in the human body. Twice," she said with a laugh. "Just to stop myself from touching your skin in a way that had nothing to do with science and a crime scene. Now I get to touch you while I name them."

Grabbing her, Booth spun her in a circle as he kissed her. Trusting him not to let her fall, Brennan followed his lead. The kiss and the motion made her head spin. "Thank you for my gift, Booth," she said when he finally pulled back.

"A whole weekend of new memories," he promised.

Taking his hand, she started back toward the cabin. "I'm looking forward to every minute."


	2. Eggnog

_Synopsis: This is one of the angsty ones I warned you about. If you don't like that sort of thing, skip it. Seriously. Don't say I didn't warn you. Takes place around the holiday season. But it does have a happy ending with Booth and Brennan, alive and well and together if you're feeling brave. _

_Brennan has a bad feeling about a trip she is taking before Christmas. It turns out, she was right to be worried. Set after season 12._

_A/N 1: I hesitated for a very long time before I included this and actually considered skipping this letter or writing something else entirely. Anxiety is definitely winning the battle for this chapter. But I'm going to hit submit and hope for the best._

_A/N 2: I don't know if any of this is actually how it works. So forgive me for any glaring errors on what I've written about. I'm sure there are plenty._

_The word goes with the E in Merry - Eggnog_

_Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy._

_OOOOOOOOOO_

"I don't want to go," she grumbled to Booth over dinner that night. "I know it's only overnight, but I am unprepared to give a presentation at this conference. We had plans tomorrow. A party for just us after the kids went to bed. Eggnog and other things," she reminded him, unable to say what the other things were with the kids in the room.

Booth snorted his amusement, making Hank laugh out loud at the unusual noise. Turning toward him, Booth made the noise several more times, just to hear his son laugh. "You could have five minutes to prepare and outshine everyone there," Booth said when Hank had tired of the game. "And we can have our private party the next night. And the one after if there is eggnog left."

Cam had appeared early, begging Brennan to fly out the next morning and present at a conference in Chicago. The previously scheduled scientist from the Jeffersonian had been diagnosed with food poisoning and was unable to leave her house. When Cam finally resorted to bribes to convince her, she'd given in, if somewhat ungracefully.

Brennan smiled at the comment, then turned serious again. Standing, she reached out to take Hank from his high chair. "I wonder if Christine is enjoying staying at Angela's tonight. Apparently they are working on Christmas crafts and ornaments for the tree."

The change of topic was sudden, but not unusual. Still, Booth filed it away for later, feeling like there was something else bothering his wife. "That wasn't a serious question, was it?" he asked. She might be a miniature version of the best parts of the two of them, but there was also a touch of artist in his daughter. Rising, he started to clear the table.

"No," she said, boosting Hank in her arms and heading toward the bathroom. It was time for a bath to clean up the mess he'd made of himself at dinner. "I just wish she was here. I would have liked to see her tonight."

There was a note in her voice that Booth couldn't read. But before he could ask, she disappeared toward the back of the house. For several minutes, he stared after her, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

He managed to wait until they were both in bed. Over the years, they'd discovered that sometimes it was easier for them to be honest with each other when they were holding each other in the dark. Not having to worry about how the other person visibly reacted to what was said made it all easier somehow.

"Are you going to tell me the real reason why you don't want to go on to this conference?" he asked her gently. "It's more than just not being prepared. You'd see that as a sort of challenge." Her competitive streak wasn't a secret and this seemed like one of those times she'd use it to her advantage.

"I don't know," she said bluntly. "Logically, I know I should go. It's only for one night, even if I hate being gone this time of year. Postponing our eggnog fueled party is not something I would normally be concerned about. But the whole thing feels wrong somehow." She shifted in his arms. "I hate when I am unsure about something and can't figure out the reason why."

Even in the dark, Booth knew her eyes had shifted toward the Christmas tree that stood in their living room. That's why she was worried about what time of year it was.

"For so long," she continued, "I had no one at Christmas, and it hurt too much to think about celebrating it. Now that I have it, I hate to miss a minute of it. We both know how fragile and fleeting these moments can be."

His lips pressed against her, happy to be the one that had given the holiday back to her. "One night won't make a difference. We have plenty of time."

In his arms, she shuddered and Booth felt the hair on his arms go up. He couldn't have explained why if she had asked him. But something about the way her body shook had made his stomach clench. Her next words, slurring as she lost the fight to stay awake, didn't make him feel any better.

"That's the problem, Booth. I feel like there isn't any time left."

OOOOOOOOOO

If she remembered her statement the next morning, she didn't mention it. But Booth did. It haunted him the entire day and long into the next evening. Their phone conversation was short that night and did little to alleviate his concern.

Her plane had taken off and landed safely. Nothing had happened during the day. He'd spent the day in the office and she at the conference room in Chicago. Nothing in her voice had indicated anything was wrong and nothing in his own travels that day had put him on edge.

A whole lot of nothing. But it certainly didn't feel that way to him. His stomach hadn't stopped hurting. And Booth didn't really expect it to.

Day two was more of the same. Booth reassured himself by thinking about picking her up at the airport. The internal countdown was always in his mind; how many hours until she left, until her plane landed, until she was in his arms again. Then maybe he could forget about those words whispered in the darkness before sleep took over.

Had they been some sort of premonition? A statement about how little time she had to prepare for the conference? Or just the jumbled words of a mind shutting down for the night.

He'd been ready to leave the office just after lunch when she called the first time. Her plane had been delayed. She was waiting in the airport and would let him know as soon as she took off. Everything was fine.

Booth took it as a bad omen and rose from his desk to pace the length of his office. And when that didn't work, he threw himself into the files on his desk, hoping he could distract himself with work.

This was ridiculous. There was nothing wrong. But whatever had put Brennan on edge was now impacting him. And he couldn't shake it no matter what he did.

Her plane was delayed a second time and then a third. By the time she finally called and said they were boarding, Booth was ready to drive to Chicago and pick her up. Instead, he told her he'd be waiting when she landed, at the same time looking nervously out his window. Snow and ice had started to fall. It just made the stomach ache he'd had all day that much worse.

OOOOOOOOOO

The first sign that something was wrong came when the pilot's voice came over the speakers. He apologized for the long delay in taking off, then informed them that due to weather, they were being diverted to Richmond. Brennan couldn't understand why. The airports were so close together she couldn't believe the weather was any different there.

They'd finally been put on a different plane to fly back to DC. One without first class. Still, she was happy enough to be going home that she wouldn't complain. At least she had a seat on the aisle. And the flight was short.

Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text to Booth. At this point, she'd just grab and hotel room and he could pick her up in the morning. There was no sense in him driving in the weather and she'd feel better if he wasn't out on the roads. She told him so and hoped that he'd listen to her. Knowing the entire time that he probably wouldn't.

The second sign came as they were preparing to land at Richmond. Brennan had flown into this airport before, many times in fact. Often enough that her mind had catalogued where the runways were and which were the type a plane of this size typically landed on. Just something she'd taught herself when she needed a break from skeletons and death. It gave her a sense of control.

Booth would tease her for it and it was something she'd never actually admitted to knowing. To anyone. Who actually knew things like that?

But right now, it felt like they were coming in from the wrong direction. Sitting on the aisle made it so she couldn't see well out the window, but everything looked wrong. She hoped it was only the snow and the poor visibility that was making her nervous.

She shook her head, but couldn't make the feeling go away. Unable to shake it, Brennan tightened her seatbelt and tucked her cell phone into her pocket before zipping it shut. Making sure her shoes were tied firmly on her feet, Brennan leaned back in her seat and tried to breathe her way through this. It was late, she was more than likely wrong about the whole thing. Soon she'd be at the terminal and this feeling would be over.

Except she was rarely wrong. And for one of the few times in her life, she wanted to be.

The plane landed hard and she was jolted forward in her seat. Then thrown forward again when the engines started screaming as the brakes were applied. Hard. Behind her, she heard someone scream at the noise.

There was a bang when a tire on the landing gear gave out. The seat belt kept her firmly in place, but several of the overhead bins popped open, sending debris falling throughout the cabin. Brennan did her best to protect her head, but something hit her left arm and she winced. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the warm liquid running down her arm and on her fingers was blood, but she pushed the knowledge away. Worrying about that injury would come later. Her first concern was making sure she got off this plane.

The plane jerked hard, throwing Brennan in her seat, and she opened her eyes to see sparks flying outside the windows. The wing had clipped something, a pole perhaps, lighting up the night sky and the interior of the plane. A woman across the aisle screamed in terror and Brennan fought the urge to do the same. Screaming wasn't going to help her or anyone else. If the crash didn't kill her, there wasn't room for panic. Panic led to mistakes and a mistake at this point could easily lead to further injury or even death.

Booth was waiting for her. This crash wasn't going to keep her from getting home.

She could feel the plane slowing. Bouncing violently then slowing even more. Behind her, someone whimpered. In her mind, she pictured the layout of the interior. The nearest exit was three seats up and to her left. Having the foresight to insist on an aisle seat meant she wouldn't have to crawl over anyone in her row to make sure she escaped the plane. She would not be trapped by some irrational passenger who stopped to retrieve their luggage instead of exiting the plane in a timely manner.

There was another whimper from behind her and as passengers realized they were coming to a stop, the screams died out only to rapidly pick up again. Seconds later, Brennan knew why. Smoke. She could smell it. Not unexpected considering they had just crashed, but where there was smoke, there could always be fire. Not a good combination with the jet fuel she was sure currently leaked from the plane.

Already, Brennan knew what had happened. They'd landed on the wrong runway, then slid off the end of it. An easily survivable accident for everyone on board, if they kept their wits about them.

Her next thoughts went to Booth. She was fine. But how long would it take before she could let him know that?

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Booth arrived at the airport before her message. The kids were home with Aubrey and Booth was thankful for that fact. The drive to the airport in the snow had been an adventure.

He stopped at the arrival board first and looked for her flight. He found it quickly enough, only to groan when _diverted_ was what he saw next to the number. Pulling out his phone, Booth saw the message, quickly realizing he was at the wrong airport. Laughing at the idea of not going to get her, Booth tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared at the board for a second. He better get some coffee. In good weather, the drive to Richmond was bad enough. With the snow falling, it was going to take him even longer to arrive.

It was because he was staring at the board that he saw _diverted_ flicker and disappear. His eyes narrowed, wondering if something was going on with the power. But nothing else appeared to have been impacted and he didn't dare blink as he waited to see what would happen.

Then different words appeared. And he braced himself for what was about to happen. He knew what those words meant. Knew it in his brain but couldn't acknowledge them with his heart. _See agent_. Two simple words that could mean anything. But pair them together on an arrival board at the airport and they only meant one thing.

Crash. Accident. Disaster.

Her plane hadn't made it to the airport it had been diverted to and it wasn't going to. Or it had made it but something had happened when they tried to land.

Afraid he might collapse in shock, Booth looked for something to grab onto. But there was nothing and he locked his knees to keep from falling. The pizza he'd shared with Aubrey and the kids was heavy in his stomach and for a moment he thought it might end up on his shoes.

Booth existed in a vacuum. A world he didn't want to be in and didn't understand. Around him, people moved, wheeled suitcases behind them, continued on with their daily lives. He could see them out of the corners of his eyes, but there was no sound. Just the roaring that was coming from his own brain while it refused to process the terrible.

Inside his own head, there was screaming. A howling noise that forced him to bite his cheeks so he didn't accidentally give it voice.

Unconsciously, one finger rubbed at the ring he wore. The ring he never took off. She was out there. He'd feel her warm hand in his again. This part of his life wasn't over. It wasn't long enough. The short time they'd been together wasn't going to be all he ever had.

Beside him, a woman put her hand over her mouth and gasped. It popped the bubble he stood in and the sounds of the airport came back in a wave forcing him to fight the urge to put his hands over his ears. The sounds were too loud and the lights too bright and the words on the arrival board glared at him.

Plane crashes were survivable. And he didn't even know for sure that was what had happened. He needed to stop jumping to conclusions and wait for the evidence.

Until he knew, had irrefutable proof right in front of him, then he couldn't give up. Brennan had never given up on him. Not when his brother died and it looked like he might bleed to death before she'd come for him. She hadn't quit. So until he knew for sure, then she was alive. And it was up to him to find her.

"I'm coming," he said to no one. Then turned to find an agent so he could figure out what the hell was going on.

OOOOOOOOOO

Her feet touched the dirt and she followed the crowd hurrying from the plane. There were red lights rapidly approaching and Brennan realized they'd crashed just short of another runway. Probably the one they were supposed to land on. In the distance, lights from the terminal reflected off the rapidly falling snow. It made her dizzy as the snowflakes changed color from white to red and back again. Another step and she fell, but someone next to her grabbed her before she hit the ground.

"You're hurt," the voice said. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out what looked like a napkin and pressed it to her arm. She swallowed a cry of pain. Her rescuer winced in sympathy but kept firm pressure on the cut. "Here," he said, taking her hand and moving it to hold the napkin. "If you hold this, I can help you climb."

The plane had landed at the bottom of the embankment. The runway was above them and the red lights were growing brighter. It would be difficult enough to climb if she wasn't hurt. But it was dark and she only had the use of one hand. The other was trying to hold the bandage down.

Together, they started up. Passengers had already made it to the top and were frantically waving toward whoever was coming toward them. Behind, others were screaming and Brennan wondered if they were truly hurt or just in shock.

More hands gripped her from above, and they were pulled the rest of the way up. WIth her feet on the end of the runway, she swayed again when the hands let go. Alarmed, fellow passengers grabbed her. Someone else yelled for the ambulance as soon as it pulled up.

"I'm fine," she argued as a paramedic began to poke and prod at her. She tried to bat the hands away now, but there wasn't much force behind the hits and she finally gave up. "I just have a cut arm." She held it out for him to see and he yelled behind him for a bandage. "And I need to call my husband."

"Phones are out," the paramedic said simply, trying to shine a light in her eyes. "The plane took out the system when it hit the pole. They'll get them up again, but it's going to take a little while. We'll get you to the terminal."

She tipped her head back to get away from the light and closed her eyes. Her uninjured arm patted her pocket, making sure the phone was still secured there. She could still see the flashing lights, even with her eyes closed. Fat snowflakes hit her face and the wind blew, causing her to shiver violently. "Will there be working phones?" she asked.

"Should be," the paramedic answered. "They'll be working on getting the backup system operational. Doesn't usually take long." He took a bandage and gauze from another man who appeared behind him. "You should really get this arm looked at."

Brennan looked down as he covered it. "It's not that deep of a laceration. It will heal fine. I have no other injuries that need to be looked at." Snow continued to fall, coating her hair and clothes. She shivered again.

Around her, other passengers were wandering aimlessly between emergency vehicles while others held phones up, complaining about not having a signal. Everything was chaotic and out of control. Of the passengers she could see, none of them appeared to be severely hurt. And more kept appearing on the runway. With the emergency vehicles and lack of organization, she feared someone would be run over.

When the paramedic tried to lead her toward the back of an ambulance, she yanked her arm away from him. "I am fine. I am not going in the ambulance. Go help someone who actually needs it." Her voice was firm enough that he nodded and disappeared toward the wreckage.

Others started handing out blankets to the passengers. She heard a mention of buses coming to pick them up, but she couldn't see any immediately around them and figured it would be some time before they arrived.

"Sorry, Booth," she apologized, moving toward a group that was huddling together for warmth. She wouldn't get to a phone before he knew the plane had crashed. And having an intimate knowledge of what he was about to go through, she knew she couldn't get to a phone fast enough. He was going to worry she was dead, wonder if she was dying. It wasn't the first time they'd been through something like this, but she had a feeling this was going to be worse for him.

Because there was no enemy to find, no mystery to solve. He was just going to have to wait until someone gave him the news. Neither of them liked to be helpless.

"I'll keep trying," she promised, watching more lights race toward them.

OOOOOOOOOO

He paced. Stopped. Checked his phone. Paced again. Waited. Watched. Went back to the conference room to see if there were updates. Waited. Paced again.

They tried to get him to stay in the conference room where families were coming for information, but he refused. He flashed his badge, his eyes dark with fear and fury, and they stepped back. He stayed out of view of the people in the terminal, pacing in the long hallway outside the conference room, and they left him alone.

At some point, he took a deep breath and managed to make several calls.. Told Aubrey Brennan's flight had been delayed because of the storm and asked him to stay with the kids. It wouldn't last long. Soon news of the crash would break and Aubrey would know he'd lied. Booth didn't care if he understood.

The thought of the worried glances and fear on his friend's faces was more than he could handle. They always wanted him to be the strong one and right now he couldn't do that. He was barely holding himself together. There was no way he could do that for someone else.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Booth whirled to see Cullen standing behind him. He'd climbed so far up the ladder, Booth wasn't sure if he was even his boss anymore. But he hadn't known who else to call. He needed someone who could get him answers faster than those that would come from the airline. And someone who would sit with him and wait without wanting Booth to support them as well.

Next to him, Cullen's wife gave Booth a small smile, squeezed his forearm encouragingly, then left. Stepping away just for a second, Cullen bent down and kissed her cheek, whispering something to her. She nodded her head, looked at Booth briefly again, then disappeared around a corner.

"She's a hell of a driver," Cullen said. Opening a door near them, he motioned for Booth to enter the empty room. "Got us here in pretty good time, even with the snow falling outside." Closing the door behind them, Cullen met Booth's eyes. "I'd ask how you're holding up, but I can see the answer."

"Do you know anything?" Booth asked, slumping into a chair. Leaning forward, he rubbed both hands across his face. "Is the weather that bad? Is that why the plane went down?" He couldn't voice the questions he really wanted answers to. Were there survivors? Was she alive?

"I spent the entire trip on the phone, which is why I had Julia drive me. It appears the plane slid off the end of a runway. Reports from the ground indicate there are survivors. There are also injuries. None of have been reported as serious, so that's good news. Patients are being transported to hospitals. Identifications are taking some time. The weather isn't helping. Essentially, what you have right now, Booth, is unorganized chaos at its finest. It's probably going to be an hour or two. Unless she finds a phone. But apparently the plane took out some of the phone systems so even that might be iffy."

Booth tipped his head back. "You managed to find out quite a bit."

"I knew who to call," Cullen said darkly. Some had barely arrived on the scene when they'd answered their phones to hear Cullen's demands for information. "Paramedics were there quickly. Even if she's one of the injured, the crash was clearly survivable. Don't give up."

"I know what she felt like now," Booth said softly. The door clicked open behind Cullen and he turned to take the two cups of coffee his wife held. Another kiss on the cheek and she was gone again.

One cup was placed in front of Booth. "Drink," Cullen ordered, taking a sip from his own cup. "You're going to need the caffeine and sugar. When you find out where she is and that she's okay, you're going to want to get to her fast. And you can't do that if you're half asleep." He paused and waited until Booth reached for the cup and forced himself to take a drink. The liquid burned his tongue and Booth focused on the sensation. He'd been numb since those words had first flashed on the arrival board. It scared him that he could feel again. He wasn't sure he could handle the next few hours if he could feel every emotion racing through him.

"Now, what were you saying? You knew what she felt like?" Cullen asked.

"When I faked my death," Booth said haltingly. "Or when I got caught up with what Jared was doing. When she lived in some sort of gray area where she thought I was dead or thought I might be dying. I thought I understood, but I was wrong." He took another sip of the drink, trying to soothe his suddenly dry throat. "I don't understand how she forgave me. Either time. I did that to her. On purpose," he whispered hoarsely.

Cullen stared at the man and knew he was seeing a side of Booth others rarely saw. As an agent, he was impossible to rattle. Not knowing whether Dr. Brennan was alive or dead, and not able to do anything to find out, wasn't a situation Booth was prepared to handle.

"Not on purpose," Cullen disagreed. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and feigned relaxation. Showing any concern about Dr. Brennan's fate wasn't going to help Booth. Cullen had little doubt the woman would find a way to survive. He'd seen her get out of worse.

So had Booth. But the man was having trouble remembering that right then. "You would never hurt her on purpose. The first time was out of your control. Did you know notifications were handled differently after that?" Taking a drink of his rapidly cooling coffee, Cullen placed the cup on the table. "I made changes so what happened to Dr. Brennan would never be allowed to happen again. It's not much, but at least something good came from those two weeks."

Booth blinked hard, not wanting to argue. But there had been so much bad. She hadn't trusted him for a long time after that. The haunted look in her eyes every time she'd dared to glance at him had taken months to go away.

"As for the other," Cullen continued. "You tried to save your brother. She's a woman who implicated herself on the stand to save her father." Booth's eyes flew to Cullen's, the surprise clear. "Did you really think I wouldn't hear about something like that?" He waved away the concern that flashed in Booth's eyes. "Water under the bridge as far as I'm concerned. But if anyone could understand the choice you made, it's her."

Cullen's phone rang and after a quick glance at the screen, he stepped away to take the call. He spoke in whispered words and harsh tones. Booth finally gave up trying to listen, afraid to hear something he'd misinterpret, or something he'd understand perfectly.

OOOOOOOOOO

The buses came and Brennan made sure the elderly and the children were allowed to board before she did. Booth would understand her choice, even if it meant the delay to a working phone was going to be longer. The cut on her arm had stopped bleeding a long time ago and she'd ceased worrying about it. Perhaps it would leave a scar, but it would be one among many and simply proof of another battle she'd managed to survive.

Passengers continued to wave their phones in the air, searching for signals that weren't there. They all had people they needed to talk to and Brennan understood their desire. She felt the same.

Other passengers talked and at times, there was the quiet sound of laughter. Their way of fighting back against the panic that had gripped them when it became apparent what was happening. There was also a sense of gratitude that she could almost taste and it brought the first smile to her face. That was something Booth would have said, something she would have replied was impossible.

They arrived at the terminal and were escorted to a large room where warm drinks were waiting. Most of them were wet and muddy from the falling snow and climbing the embankment, even the children who'd been carried. The drinks were quickly consumed but more was continuously brought into the room. Soon, there was food. But little of it was consumed.

After that there was nothing to do but wait. The airline was gathering information, trying to figure out who was uninjured and who was unaccounted for. Brennan gave her name in an emotionless tone. She was simply too tired to feel anything at all. And too worried about Booth to care about anything else.

She didn't pray. Couldn't believe in fate or God, even for him. But right at that moment, she wished she did. So she could pray for the man she knew was desperately worried about her. And probably saying a few prayers himself.

She checked her phone for a signal every five minutes. Consistently. Without stopping or breaking the pattern. It was all she had control over and she watched the time ruthlessly, never checking early or late. Because of that, when the first bar appeared and then a second, she was ready.

It would only be moments before everyone knew and Brennan feared that the towers would be overwhelmed with everyone trying to use them at once. But moments were all she needed. Her message was short, enough to let him know that she was okay.

The rest would come later. When she looked into the brown eyes of the man who would catch her when she fell apart.

OOOOOOOOOO

When his phone sounded, Booth pulled it from his pocket so fast, it fell from his fingers. Reaching for it, he turned it over, relieved to see the screen wasn't cracked.

The message was from her phone, the identification clear on the screen. Someone had her phone and had sent him a message.

Please, he prayed, let that someone be Bones.

His thumb shook when he clicked on it. Reading it once and then again, he tossed the phone on the table where Cullen could see it then dropped his head into his hands.

The relief was sweet and overwhelming. She was alive, waiting for him. He knew the where. The first word had been I'm. Meaning she was well enough to type the message herself.

Somewhere out there, warm and safe, was Bones. Until he saw her with his own eyes, nothing would be completely right. But he finally felt like he could breathe for the first time since those words had flashed on the arrival board.

A hand came down on his shoulder while Booth fought for control. His entire body shuddered once and then again, Cullen's hand remaining firmly in place the entire time. He took a minute to savor the feeling before drawing a deep breath and picking up his head.

The hand on his shoulder clapped him hard before pulling away. "Let me make some calls and see what is going on. I'm assuming the passengers are in a separate part of the airport somewhere. I'll find out if we need to go there or if the airline plans on transporting them here."

He watched as Cullen barked out questions and waited for answers, desperately needing answers and knowing he wouldn't get them fast enough.

"Bad news?" he forced himself to ask when Cullen hung up the phone.

"At least that would be news," Cullen said. "But what I've got is no answers. At least none that will help you. The passengers are at the airport, but no decision has been made on whether or not they will be brought here. They are still working on verifying where all the passengers are. Most have not been entered in any system yet. Agencies are working as fast as they can, but it always takes too long. Especially for the families waiting for news."

"I shouldn't have called you," Booth said into the silence that fell between them. It wasn't quite an apology for his actions, but he felt as if he should offer one. "I made your wife drive in this storm."

Cullen's eyes turned dark and the look he gave Booth was easily recognizable. As an agent, he'd seen that look in his boss's eyes once or twice. "My wife, wasn't made to do anything. As you are married to a strong willed woman, you should know how that works. As for not calling, I cannot describe how pissed I would have been if I'd learned you sat here waiting alone because you didn't want to bother me."

Somehow, with everything that was going, Booth managed to find a smile. "Yeah, Bones does her own thing. Thank you," Booth said sincerely.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Cullen pulled out his phone again. "Let me see who else I can get out of bed tonight. Some people out of the Richmond office owe me some favors. It's time to call them in." There was a glint in his eyes that told Booth he was going to enjoy rattling some cages. Booth was glad his wasn't going to be one of them.

He was sitting, head in his hands, still staring at the phone when it finally rang.

OOOOOOOOOO

When the signal didn't die and more bars kept appearing on the phone, Brennan finally trusted it enough to dial his number. Afraid it might be worse if the call failed just when she tried to call, she'd hesitated. And she feared her own reaction when she finally heard his voice.

"Booth?' she asked, even though it was clearly him. Even with the distance and poor signal she could hear the stress in his reply and Brennan let out a shaky sigh. "I'm okay, I promise that I am okay," she said, answering the questions he hadn't found the voice to ask. "Just a small cut on my arm. But I'm warm and safe and I'm fine. I promise."

"Bones," he interrupted, forcing her to stop talking. And never wanting her to. That tired sound was all he wanted to listen to. Then despite all the reassurances, asked her. "Are you sure you're okay?  
The laugh was watery. "Didn't I just tell you that when I couldn't stop talking?" she asked and there was enough of her in the sentence that Booth could begin to relax. "Just a cut to my arm from a bag falling. Doesn't even need stitches. How are you?"

"How am I?" he echoed into the phone. "Sick to my stomach. Terrified," he said bluntly. "I feel like I'm going to throw up from both worry and relief. But," he said, firming his voice and using her own words, "I'm fine now, I promise."

He turned to Cullen and gave the man a shaky thumbs up. Cullen nodded his head, then stepped out into the hallway. Julia was waiting there for him, leaning against the wall. She was on her phone, trying not to look at the various news articles and photographs that were rapidly filling her news feed. When she saw her husband, she looked up, fear lining the skin around her eyes.

"She's on the phone," Cullen said, pointing back toward the closed door. "I left them alone to do whatever it is they need to do. Booth will feel better if I'm not there to see it."

Locking her arm in his, Julia gave him a watery smile. "That's good," she said, wiping at her cheeks. "Can I interest you in another bad cup of coffee?"

Smiling down at her, thinking of the way she'd held together on a dangerous, snowy drive and through their own personal tragedies, Cullen nodded. "He'll need a few minutes."

"So do you," Julia said, dragging him away. "I know how you feel about the two of them. Even if you like to hide it from the rest of the world. So I think you might need a few minutes yourself."

"I'm coming to get you, Bones," Booth argued behind the closed door. He was grateful to Cullen for giving him the privacy. "I need you," he added softly at the end.

In her own room, Brennan shook her head. "I need you too," she answered calmly. "But you aren't driving here," she said, realizing Booth couldn't see her shake her head. As someone entered the room, Brennan only half listened to his arguments as the airline employee made the announcement.

"Booth," she said sharply to stop his tirade. When he paused, she managed to get in a few words. "They are putting those of us that want to return to DC on buses. I'm getting on one. Don't bother coming here. I'm coming to you."

OOOOOOOOOO

So he was back to waiting and pacing. Interrupted only once by a phone call from Aubrey. Sighing, because he knew the news was out, Booth was tempted to ignore it, but knew he couldn't. Aubrey was with their children and needed to know what was going on.

"Booth."

"Have you...seen the news?" Aubrey asked. In the kitchen of the Booth home, Aubrey turned to make sure neither child had risen from their bed and stood behind him. He wouldn't be responsible for the Booth children finding out their mother's plane has crashed.

"Yeah," Booth said. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to continue. "I know the plane crashed. I'm at the airport with Cullen. I take it it's on television?"

Aubrey's stomach dropped but he thought of the kids peacefully unaware and kept it together. "Every channel," he said. "Have you heard anything? They are reporting that there are a significant number of survivors, but no one has a clear number yet."

Booth pinched the bridge of his nose. "She sent a text and then called me. She sounds tired. They are bringing some of the passengers back to DC. She claims she's okay, but she'd say that even if she was missing a limb. That's all I've got. Cullen is trying to help. Listen, can you-"

"I'm not going anywhere," Aubrey interrupted. "I'll tell the kids you caught a case when they get up." Looking across the kitchen towards the living room, where a tree full of lights shone gaily against the nightmare of this night, Aubrey thought fast. "I'll take them shopping for presents for you guys or take them sledding, or something. Don't worry about us."

Outside a blizzard raged, but it was nothing compared to the storm going on inside Booth's head. "I can't," Booth said, his voice catching. Relief and exhaustion were catching up with him at the same time, making it hard for him to control his emotions.

That sound alarmed Aubrey more than what he was seeing on television. "I can't deal with everyone else right now," Booth continued when he'd regained control.

"I'll make the calls," Aubrey said, taking over. "Tell them to call me. She's on her way back to you, Booth. You know what it's like after something like this. Just keep it together a little longer. The worst part is already over. You know she's still alive and well enough to get to you."

"Thanks, Aubrey." Booth looked up to see Cullen watching him. "Listen, I have to go. When I know something, I'll let you know. Just check on the kids for me, okay?"

Cullen and Julia sat in the middle of the room, giving Booth a wide path in order to move. Even when on the phone, the man continued to walk.

"Is this what you're like during cases?" Cullen asked curiously. "No wonder you struggled to get your paperwork in on time. You never sit still long enough to do it."

Booth looked up. "Sorry," he apologized, but didn't sit down. Instead, he looked at his watch for the hundredth time. "How long does it take to drive a bus from Richmond?" he demanded.

"Too long when you are waiting for the woman you love," Julia said gently, giving Booth a smile. "Just don't squeeze her too hard when she gets here. She might have wounds that you can't see."

His head came around to stare at her. Was she talking physical wounds, or something else entirely? Finally, he gave her a nod and went back to pacing.

Julia shook her head and put a hand on Cullen's arm. The look he gave her was warm and full of gratitude. It took a particular kind of woman to marry an agent and he'd definitely gotten lucky with her.

When the door quietly opened, Booth turned so fast, the others in the room were surprised he didn't fall. They'd expected a representative from the airport to be standing there.

Instead it was the person they'd all been waiting for.

"Bones," Booth whispered.

"Hey," she said, alarmed to realize she'd started to cry as soon as his eyes met hers. But she had predicted that's what would happen. She'd predicted a lot of things correctly this night.

Two steps and he simply engulfed her until all of her was surrounded by all of him. She'd had just enough time to lift her arms around his neck before his surrounded her like steel bands.

And that's when she let the fear and exhaustion catch up to her. And wept in his arms.

When her knees buckled, he held on tight enough to get both of them to a chair. Settling into it gratefully, he wasn't entirely steady himself, he moved her until she sat sideways on his lap, her face pressed into his neck.

"Shhh," Booth said softly, rocking her gently, mindful of Julia's warning. "We're okay." She was in his arms, he was holding her tightly and everything was right with his world again. They were going to go home together and celebrate Christmas. The life he loved, the one he shared with her and his children, wasn't over.

"I love you," he whispered softly. He had a thousand things he wanted to say, about what she meant to him, but those three words summed it all up. "I'm so glad you're here. And I'm spiking the eggnog when we get home," he teased, relieved when she managed a laugh through the tears.

For a long time, he just held on. If this was what she needed, what they both needed, he was more than ready to do it until the sun came up. Or until someone remembered they were here and chased them out. Faced with the idea of never holding her again, this moment felt like the greatest gift he could ever be given.

Cullen and Julia had quietly left the room, making sure the door closed behind them. "She looked okay," Julia commented quietly.

Taking a look at the closed door, Cullen finally nodded. "They'll be okay," he said firmly, taking his wife's hand in his. Together, they walked toward the exit and out into the swirling snow. "Somehow, despite everything they go through, they always are."


	3. Reindeer

_Thank you to everyone for the wonderful reactions to the first two chapters. The positive comments are greatly appreciated. _

_Synopsis: With Christmas rapidly approaching and their new house not ready for the holidays, Brennan takes matters into her own hands. Set during the Christmas Brennan is pregnant with Christine. No warning needed for this one._

_Word today is the first R in Merry - Reindeer_

By the time she arrived at the Lab, Brennan wasn't even sure what they were fighting about. Or if they were fighting at all. She just knew she was mad. Furious. It was ridiculous how angry that man could make her.

He'd come storming into her place, well, her old place if she was completely factual about it. And that was one thing she'd had no intention of losing now that they were having a baby together. Facts would always be important to her no matter how drastic the changes in her life.

She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts back on track. He'd appeared at the door to her old apartment with a file in his hand. The same file she was currently holding. Then yelled, actually yelled at her, for being there at all. It had taken a moment for her brain to catch up with what he was trying to tell her. She was supposed to be at the Lab. He was going to take her home. What was she doing at this place instead of the new house they'd purchased together?

There had barely been a pause before he started in again on how she had to learn to adjust. Ha. As if he didn't have to do the same. By that point, recognizing that actually trying to talk to him was fruitless, she'd grabbed the file from where he'd slapped it in the center of her table and stormed away. Somewhere in all the ranting, he'd mentioned a forgotten report from when they'd finished the paperwork the night before. Excuse to leave readily available, she'd taken it, just to get away from him. A slamming door had punctuated her exit and Brennan almost laughed as she realized she'd stormed out of her own apartment.

"I think I scared him," she said softly, running a hand over her stomach. "I didn't mean to," she explained while she waited for her computer to warm up. "I just forgot that he was picking me up. I blame that on you," she said, giving her belly an affectionate pat. "Studies have shown that pregnant women are more forgetful."

Settling herself carefully into her chair, she accessed the report and printed a copy. Placing it carefully on top of the rest of the paperwork, she put the folder in the center of her desk where he was sure to see it.

Left with a choice, to leave again or wait for him to appear, Brennan considered her swollen feet and the long day she'd just experienced before making her way over to the couch and stretching out on it. Booth would show up eventually. And despite her anger with him for the irrational way he'd acted, she wouldn't scare him again unnecessarily.

OOOOO

Booth didn't know what he'd do if she wasn't in the Lab. Her phone said she was, but he wouldn't put it past her to leave in on her desk, just to make it impossible for him to track her.

At this point, after the way he'd acted, he wouldn't be surprised to see find her back at home packing bags and refusing to speak to him ever again. He probably deserved it, but hoped she wouldn't resort to something quite so drastic.

Her office was empty but he could see the file on her desk. Knowing that meant she'd been there, he desperately hoped to find a note inside telling him something, anything about where she'd gone or what she was thinking. It wasn't until he found nothing, and turned to leave again that he saw her asleep on the couch.

A hand came down on her desk to support his suddenly weak knees as he took a breath. Stepping forward, he knelt next to her head and brushed the hair from her face. "Bones?" he said softly, waiting until she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Come home. I'll sleep on the couch or in the SUV if you want, as long as I know you are in a warm bed instead of this uncomfortable couch."

"If I don't want to go home with you or be with you tonight, I'll just go back to my apartment. There is no need for you to sleep in the SUV and risk hypothermia."

"I'm sorry," he said simply, wishing for her gift with words. The thought that she actually might spend the night on her own was terrifying. He wasn't going to sleep without her next to him and she knew it. "I was scared. I overreacted and took every ounce of my fear and stress out on you the minute I saw you. You did nothing wrong and I should never have said otherwise."

Refusing to have a serious conversation while she was still lying down, Brennan allowed Booth to help her sit up. Being pregnant was exhausting in ways she had never realized. "I simply forgot, Booth. I was tired and wanted to go home."

She caught the cringe. His eyes were guarded as he looked at her. "Do you still think your apartment is home?" he asked carefully. "Are you having second thoughts about us moving in together?"

Well, this conversation was going downhill fast. Now Booth was questioning their relationship.

"No," she said quickly, "the apartment is not my home. In a few more weeks, I won't even be able to go back there." Her hand cupped his cheek, providing comfort he wasn't sure he deserved. "If you had given me even a second to explain, I would have told you that I spent all day doing a skull reconstruction that took every ounce of my concentration. And the thought of going to the house and seeing more construction, of fighting with lights that still don't work quite right and a bed that is too low to the floor and hard for me to get in and out of, was more than I could deal with. And I simply forgot that you were supposed to pick me up. I just wanted to get off my feet."

He tilted his head into her hand before pulling away. Moving, he tried to find a comfortable spot to sit on the floor and still face her. Not the easiest thing to do considering he was still wearing the suit he went to work in. "You weren't here, which was fine. At first," he admitted. He at least owed her an explanation on why he freaked out. "But it was late and there was no one who could tell me where you were. Then I went to the house and you weren't there. I finally used to locater on your phone to find you." He shook his head. "I wasn't sure if you had run or someone had run away with you."

"I told the baby that I had scared you. It was truly an accident, Booth. But you can't react this way. I'm not going to run. It's not okay for you to think that I will."

He'd smiled briefly at the idea she was talking to their child but he quickly turned serious again. Work on the house was progressing, but he understood her feelings about the place. Between working and solving cases, the only time available to make significant progress was the weekends and work often interfered with that time as well. "Take some time tomorrow, Bones. Go find a bed that will work and call an electrician for the lights. I don't want you feeling like you can't go to the house."

Her mouth fell open. "No, Booth," she argued. "It's fine. You'll get it taken care of." But she could see from the look on his face that he wasn't going to budge.

"No. I won't have you not wanting to come to the home we are going to share. Get what you need to make yourself comfortable. I want us to both be living there by Christmas."

Christmas. She'd almost forgotten. With the moves and getting the house ready and just their everyday lives, how could she have forgotten about such a thing? It was Booth's favorite.

Booth was picking himself up off the floor and missed the calculating look that flashed through Brennan's eyes. He already felt bad enough for acting like an ass earlier and now he was worried about the endless list of things he needed to get taken care of at the new house. "I'm going back home. To our home," he clarified. "Are you going back to your apartment?"

Was he serious? A slow perusal of his face told her that he was. After his earlier behavior, he wouldn't demand anything, even if Brennan knew all he wanted her to do was go home and rest.

"I'm coming to the house." Brennan said. " I'll get there soon." She knew what she'd said about the house bothered him, but right then, she was still annoyed enough herself to need a bit more time and space.

There was relief and suspicion in his eyes. "Do whatever you need to do," he said softly. His voice was subdued and Brennan wondered how forgetting to wait for him after work could lead to such a mess. Now both of their feelings were hurt.

She sighed softly, then spoke just loud enough for him to hear her. "You have too much on your plate right now," she said. "I don't like what it's doing to you."

Neither did he. But he didn't see any of it going away anytime soon.

OOOOOOOOO

It was an hour before she pulled into the driveway. Long enough for her to settle down, but hopefully not so long that he'd start yelling in panic again.

Sitting in the car, she studied the house on each side before focusing on theirs. It was going to be beautiful; she'd known it the moment Booth had shown it to her. It already was, and she was immensely proud of what they'd accomplished together in such a short time.

But the houses on each side were decorated for the season. With lights and trees visible in the windows. There was even a family of reindeer on one lawn. They hadn't even managed to find time to shop for a tree, say nothing of decorating it. So focused on the big things, like her pregnancy and the renovations, they were forgetting the little things. The moments that made fighting and struggling to build a life together worth it in the end.

Unfortunately, a tree couldn't be decorated until the electrical problems were fixed. And how could they ever have Christmas dinner if the kitchen wasn't totally ready? And there was still her apartment to empty. The list of tasks were endless and she wasn't getting any tinier. Each day, even the simple tasks became just a little bit harder.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Brennan noted the air was beginning to cool in the car. And when she reopened them, Booth was standing on the steps, watching her. His hands were tucked in his pockets, but he hadn't approached the car. Wondering, perhaps, if she was just going to restart it and drive away, rather than come inside like she'd promised.

What she'd decided to do, while sitting there staring at the house, had the potential to make him angry. That knowledge had settled into the pit of her stomach. It wasn't going to stop her. She'd meant what she'd said to him in the office; the stress was starting to get to him. The decision was made and she didn't change her mind. Booth should have remembered that when he asked if she was coming back to the house. There were a thousand other places she could have gone when storming from her own apartment, but she'd chosen the one place he'd be sure to find her.

It was her home now. Booth was her home. And she was going to make sure it was ready for Christmas.

Finally leaving the car, she pressed a kiss to his cheek as she passed. "I have some phone calls to make. I'll be in my office."

Thinking she was still angry and relieved that she'd come back to the house, he simply nodded.

Turning, illuminated by some of the work lights behind her, Brennan knew he couldn't see her face clearly. Which was probably a good thing, since she never had been able to hide much from him. But she didn't want him to spend the rest of the night worrying about what was going on in her head. "I'm angry," she said simply. "But not angry." Which made no sense when you said it aloud, but made perfect sense to her.

But he'd always understood her the best. The corner of his mouth lifted in an attempt at a smile before he nodded at her again. "Go do your work, Bones. And I'll take care of mine."

Returning the nod, she disappeared toward the room they were turning into her office. It wasn't finished, but it at least had a working computer that she could use for research. And a comfortable chair.

If everything went the way she planned, he'd have a lot less work by the weekend. And her office would be a lot more done.

OOOOOOO

She was going to need favors to make this work. And she called in every single one she ever thought was owed to her.

When Booth was sent out of town for a three day conference at the end of the week, she listened sympathetically, even if she had been the one to arrange it with Cullen. It was going to be a lot easier to get everything done if he wasn't there to see it.

The only way she could even convince him to go was to agree to have someone stay at the house with her at night. Angela had been the first to offer, before she even knew what Brennan was planning to do. After hearing the explanation, she went home early to pack bags for herself and the baby. What were best friends for? Besides, her heart saw the magic in the season and Angela wouldn't pass up a chance to be part of something like that.

After that, it was a matter of making phone calls and spending money. Her money. Booth had insisted they each pay half of the house. He'd insisted they go together on the renovations. He also wanted them to be comfortable there in time for Christmas. That wasn't going to happen without professionals. And professionals cost money.

It was his Christmas gift, she said to herself more than once. The major work was already done, this work was just cosmetic. She repeated the litany of statements over and over again, knowing she was going to need all of them when he returned.

By the end of the first morning, the electrician had found the problem and quickly taken care of it. Buoyed by the success, Brennan watched the clock, waiting for the next crew to show up. That was for the kitchen and soon she had a sink and appliances. They'd been sitting in the garage for several weeks, waiting much more patiently than their owners to be installed. It looked like she might be able to host Christmas dinner after all.

At some point after lunch, people from the Lab had started appearing. Hodgins first, to check on Angela and Michael. Then Cam, already missing her staff and not having a new case to work on, had shown up as well. Sweets wanted to be part of whatever this was and appeared around dinner time. Suddenly, Brennan was whisked back to her apartment to pack the rest of her belongings. Soon everything was moved to the house and she was giving directions on where to unpack it. Work that would have taken Booth all day to help her with was done in a matter of hours.

Later that night, turning slowly in a circle, Brennan took in what had been finished and made a mental note of what else needed to be completed. It looked really nice.

It was starting to look like home.

The next day dawned cool and clear. As the sun came up, the cars began appearing. This time, her interns were there as well. Some with food, others with paintbrushes.

They'd talked about wall colors. Abstractly. When they were dreaming about what the place would look like when it was finished. With Angela's help and Hodgin's labor, the paint was picked up and delivered to the house for her friends. To avoid paint fumes, Angela took Brennan shopping for a new bed she could actually get comfortable in.

When what Brennan selected couldn't be delivered for weeks no matter how much money she offered, Angela called for help. Soon, the bed from her apartment was in the new house as well. Booth's, the bed they had been using, was too low to the ground for her to rise from easily. An annoyance she'd managed to keep to herself until their argument. Her bed was a temporary solution until the new one arrived.

The same was done with the furniture. She and Booth hadn't talked about that and Brennan refused to make a choice without him. With a little creativity, thanks to Angela, and a lot of grumbling over Booth's ratty recliner, Brennan managed to combine their belongings into one functional living room. Admitting to herself that she liked the way it turned out, Brennan thought they might be able to wait a little while before changing it.

"He's going to be mad," Brennan said to Angela. "He told me to buy a bed and get the electrical done. This is so much more than that. The kitchen is done now and the rooms that needed paint are done. Most of the furniture is in the correct room, even if he needs to make small adjustments later."

The nursery hadn't been touched. Brennan had closed the door and firmly told everyone helping not to enter under any circumstances. That was for the two of them to do together. And with the rest of the house rapidly being finished, they would actually have time to do it now.

"He also told you he wanted you to be comfortable by Christmas," Angela pointed out pragmatically. She thought not hiring professionals to begin with had been a little ridiculous. The house had been too much work for just the two of them in such a short time frame."You just did a little more than he suggested. Paint, furniture. The appliances. You didn't make any of the big decisions without his input, Bren. Just the little stuff. Once he gets over his shock, he'll appreciate this. I promise. We're just unpacking what was in the garage."

Biting her lip, Brennan nodded, not entirely convinced. But it was too late now. And there was still plenty to do when he arrived home. All of his belongings needed to be taken care of; he'd let the lease expire on his apartment last month. Now, at least, they would be sleeping in a comfortable bed and his clothes could be moved into the closet, rather than the boxes where most of it was still stored.

With much of the house done, the third day was left for outside work. Mainly Christmas decorations. When Booth arrived home that night, their house would be the brightest and most festive on the block. She would allow nothing less.

Like the nursery, she and Booth would pick out a tree to decorate together. But that didn't mean she couldn't decorate the rest of the house. Tired from the last two days, she simply handed Angela her credit card. "Get what you think I need," she said seeing the wild look that appeared in Angela's eyes. "But don't," Brennan warned, "forget who you are helping. Booth is traditional and loves this holiday. I want it to be things he will love. Not the things that you love."

At some point between Angela leaving and her return, Brennan dozed off on the couch. When she opened her eyes, Daisy was sneaking around her living room, placing candles and Santa figurines.

"Santa isn't real," Brennan said.

Daisy jumped then continued on her mission. "Santa represents the magic of the holiday," not wanting to argue with Dr. Brennan but refusing the let her diminish what was taking place. "And therefore he is always real, no matter how old you are."

"That's not scientific or rational," Brennan argued, forcing herself to her feet.

Daisy stood her ground. "Neither is what you are doing for Agent Booth right now. But you're doing it anyway."

After that there were no more comments about the decorations.

An hour before Booth was scheduled to arrive home, Angela chased everyone out of the house. "Thank you," Brennan whispered into her hair as she hugged her best friend.

Angela gave her a brilliant smile. "In your office, there are gifts for everyone that showed up to help. Look at them, see what you think. If you like them, you can wrap them and hand them out. And don't worry about Booth," Angela added, reading the concern beneath the excitement. "He's going to love the place. You gave him magic and miracles for the holiday. What more could any guy ask for?"

With a final hug, there was nothing left to do. Brennan sat down and nervously waited for Booth to get home.

OOOOOOO

Exhausted and frustrated at being sent out of town when he had so much to do, Booth turned down the last street to his house. He barely paid attention to his surroundings. It wasn't as if his house was hard to find. It was the only one on the street with no decorations in front of it. Another thing on the list that never seemed to get any shorter, only longer.

Finishing everything up in time for Christmas was looking less and less likely. It seemed like so little, the electrical being the most important. But no matter how much or how long he worked, he just never felt like he was any closer to being done.

He didn't even notice when he drove past his house. It wasn't until he stopped at the stop sign at the opposite end of the street that he realized what had happened. Shaking his head and chastising himself for paying such poor attention, he turned the car around and headed back toward where his house should have been.

Except all the houses had lights.

Even his.

What was Bones thinking? She knew the electricity hadn't been working right. It wasn't safe to have all of that stuff plugged in. And what was she doing putting up decorations. Some of those spots couldn't be reached without a ladder.

But he had told her to hire an electrician. Had she hired a decorator too?

Pulling into the drive, Booth parked the SUV and rubbed both hands over his face. There was no way she'd done all of this by herself.

It was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in weeks. Other than Bones, of course.

There were white lights and a string of illuminated candy canes along the sidewalk. The trees in the front yard were decorated as well.

It looked like he'd always dreamed of his home looking during the holidays. As if Bones had stepped inside his head and made all the images he kept there come to life.

Awed, confused, Booth exited the vehicle and lifted his eyes toward the house. Behind the white lights and the candles in the windows, he could see decorations inside as well. Which meant lamps and working lights.

Three days was all he'd been gone. Three damn days. How did she pull this off in three days? And had she really decorated a house that was still essentially a construction zone?"

Sure the walls were done. But they needed paint. And it had working bathrooms. But the furniture was sparse and the kitchen was still in boxes in the garage. Were they really going to be tripping over decorations as they tried to move in?

His eyes moving to the figure that had stepped out on the steps, he said her name. Nothing more. He wasn't even sure if he shouted or whispered it. But there was definitely a question in it.

"Merry Christmas," she said with a smile. It was hopeful and unsure and Booth knew there was more.

More than just the miracle of lights and the woman he loved waiting for him at the top of those steps.

Rarely impacted by nerves, it made him uncomfortable to see the way she twisted her fingers together. She was genuinely upset thinking about what his reaction to all of this might be.

"It's beautiful," he said. Head shaking slowly back and forth, he made his way toward her. The suitcase would be fine until he knew the full extent of what he'd missed. "Is it safe?"

"The electrician fixed the problem the first day. Power is fine. They won't burn the house down. At least, I don't think so." She looked around, a little surprised herself at what she was seeing. "I didn't know they did all this."

Her voice was thick and Booth climbed the stairs to her, brushing quickly at her cheeks. Happy tears he assumed. "So that means you didn't do this?" he asked, relieved and curious at the same time.

"I had a lot of help. Listen, there is more on the inside. You need to be ready."

More than this? This was already amazing. "Okay. What do I need to be ready for?"

"To see our house," she said, taking his hand in hers and leading him back inside.

She'd seen all the changes as they'd taken place. To see it through his eyes was a different experience entirely. But he'd gone very still when he walked in and Brennan wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Stepping away from him, she gave him space to look. At appliances that were in the kitchen instead of the garage. At his favorite recliner that now graced their living room next to the couch that she hadn't wanted to give up. It was eclectic and perfect and somehow them.

A Santa decoration was in his hand as he turned around. "Three days," he said aloud, as if he hadn't been repeating the timeline to himself since he pulled into the driveway. "You had three days. And somehow I come home to a finished house?"

"Not entirely finished," Brennan said quickly. "The walls are still bare and your stuff needs to be unpacked. And the nursery wasn't touched."

He'd felt a little ill at the thought of not participating in putting that room together. But he needed to learn to trust her big heart. Because no one else would have put so much effort into doing something like this for him. "It's not done?"  
She shook her head. "Nothing in that room was touched. And we don't have a Christmas tree. We should do our first tree together. Well, second, if you want to count the one you gave me as a gift that year."

Sitting down heavily, he continued to clutch the Christmas figurine in his hands. "What made you...why...how?" he asked, not that any of the questions made sense. At a loss, he just stared at her.

Tired herself, Brennan sat facing him. "When you came to find me, lost your patience, I was angry. But I knew part of it was just stress. You wanted me to be comfortable, to want to always come back here and you were disappointed in yourself when I chose to go back to my apartment instead. I couldn't let you be stressed like that anymore. I just couldn't," she said a little desperately.

"So I made phone calls. And paid the extra fees to have people come immediately. And because Angela was here, she knew what was going on. So she told Jack. And it just kind of ice balled-"

"Snowballed," Booth corrected automatically.

"Snowballed from there. Suddenly all the interns were here and my apartment was empty."

"Your apartment is empty?" Booth echoed, trying to find something solid in this entire situation.

"They just packed up what was left. And when the bed I ordered couldn't get here fast enough, they brought my bed over too and put it in place of yours. It's high enough that I can get in and out of it easily."

Booth remained silent, looking around him again.

Brennan, misunderstanding his silence, sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry," she said, alarmed to feel herself tear up. Silly baby hormones. "We can change whatever you want to. I just didn't want you to be so stressed anymore. And you wouldn't ask for help and I couldn't help."

When it didn't appear she was going to stop talking, Booth dropped the figurine and pulled her to him, silencing the endless stream of words with a hard kiss. "There isn't anything here we haven't talked about, Bones. Or argued about," he said, his eyes drifting toward the recliner. "You didn't make any of the big decisions without me. And you saved the parts that were the most important to me."

He felt the tension start to leave her body and began to realize just how nervous she'd been.

"I just wanted to build this house for you. For us," he said.

"And I wanted to finish it for you. We both got what we wanted, Booth. And now we have time to spend on the nursery. We'll make it perfect. And maybe tomorrow we can get a Christmas tree."

"I love you, Bones. Jesus, I have no idea what to say. Thank you. It's not enough. But thank you for this. You have no idea…" he said, trailing off and looking around again. "The tree will look nice over there," he said thoughtfully. An hour ago, he hadn't been sure they'd have time to get one. Now he had an entire day for it.

"You're going to sleep first," Brennan ordered. Her fingers brushed at his face. "You are exhausted. You are going to sleep late and not worry about waking up early to work on this place. Then we'll go to breakfast and get a tree. Spend all afternoon decorating it and all night staring at the pretty lights. And you can tell me about the wonderful conference you were sent on."

"You sent me on that conference," Booth said suddenly. Already shocked, he barely even noticed this new one. "That's why you spent that night in your office." He sat back and studied her. "Who did you call to get me sent out of town?"

"Cullen," Brennan said bluntly. "He and his wife will be our first dinner guests this weekend. He demanded it as payment for the favor."

"You called Cullen," Booth said numbly. It was a little terrifying to realize what she would do to help him. "Who else did you call?"

She laughed. "Go check out the bedroom. You might want to move the dresser before you put clothes in it. I"ll be right in to tell you all about it."

Too stunned to argue, Booth helped her stand before wandering off to look at the rest of the rooms.

Before leaving, he'd retrieved the Santa from the floor and handed it to her. Watching him go, Brennan returned the decoration to the appropriate spot, turning it to make sure it faced the center of the room.

Perhaps Daisy was right. As long as there was magic during the holidays, Santa would always be real. It might not hurt to leave some cookies and carrots out this Christmas Eve.

Just in case.


	4. Relatives

_Synopsis: Booth needs Angela's help with a gift for Bones. Set the Christmas he was with Hannah. Brennan does not appear in this chapter. Angst for Booth's emotions in the story._

_A/N: This story relates to an earlier Christmas writing: __**The Book: 2018 12 Days of Christmas Challenge.**_ _If you want to read the backstory to this, you really only need to read the first chapter of the 2018 entry. But you should understand this story without reading that one._

_The prompt word was for the second R in Merry: relatives. _

The knock on the door was hesitant, lacking his usual confidence. He wasn't welcome here and Booth knew it. Or not as welcome as he used to be. His heart hurt at the thought of how much his relationship with all of these people had changed. Bones's people. They had been the relatives he hadn't been blessed with. The more than one kind of family he'd spoken about.

But there was something he wanted and he refused to be denied, no matter how the person on the other side of that door currently felt about him.

Angela's eyes cooled as she opened the door to see him waiting for her, but she still stepped aside to allow him to enter. With a brief glance to see if anyone waited behind him, she closed the door and turned to face him.

"To say I'm surprised to see you here would be the understatement of the year. We aren't working on a case."

Booth nodded, not disagreeing. "I'm aware of how you feel about me, Angela. But I was hoping you could put that aside. What I need is for Bones, not for me. Well, it is for me," he tried to clarify, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "but it's really for Bones."

She didn't smile, but for a second, she really had to fight it. Same guy who didn't like to ask for help. Then she pictured the blonde bimbo he was dating and all the amusement faded away.

Blind, Booth was. Blind and impatient and ignoring his own heart. Hard way to live, especially this time of year.

Why he'd brought her home, why Hannah had followed him home, Angela would never understand. What they felt for each other would burn bright and fade quickly. He belonged with Brennan. Angela only hoped he figured it out before he made a decision that couldn't be changed.

Or Brennan did. Because her friend was changing as well. Angela liked the woman she was becoming and was glad she was there to watch the transformation.

What did Booth see when he looked at Brennan now? Did he see her changing, opening herself up to the world a little more each day? Or was he ignoring that too?

"You need something for Brennan?" Angela asked, finally giving into her curiosity. Christmas was coming. She hoped Booth didn't expect her to select a gift for her best friend. If Booth wanted to purchase something for her, he could certainly pick it out himself.

"I have something for Bones," he explained, hoping her question was encouragement to continue. Angela might not be willing to help him out, but Booth was relying on her to be willing to help Bones. "But I want to add to it. To make it more personable. I want it to mean something. And I need your help to do that."

"Hmmm," Angela said vaguely. What an interesting explanation. Booth wanted his gift to the woman he wasn't dating, the woman he barely appeared to be friends with anymore, to mean something? Perhaps he wasn't as far gone as Angela feared. "Have you purchased something for her already?" she asked, moving around Booth toward her computer. She grabbed a notebook, prepared to take notes on whatever he talked about. She liked to have something to refer back to, especially if he was about to request some sort of drawing or painting.

"I need an x-ray of your hands," Booth blurted out. "Just your hands."

Angela looked up, surprised, before looking down at the notepad in her hand. Rather than taking notes, she started sketching the man in front of her. The emotions she could see just behind the eyes. There was worry that he couldn't quite hide. The stress in the shoulders that was apparent, even though he tried to appear relaxed. It was an interesting contradiction, stress beneath strength all overlapped with a worry that he would deny if asked.

"You want an x-ray of my hands?" she echoed. "For what?"

"I bought Bones a book for Christmas." After Sweets had yelled at him, but it seemed best to leave that part out. If Angela knew he hadn't purchased anything for Bones until after that conversation she'd throw him out of her office. "It's a book of injuries and the x-rays from those injuries. But I want to make it more representative of who she is. What she represents to all of us." Booth paced away, reaching in his pocket for some item to fiddle with as he tried to explain to Angela without giving too much away about the turmoil he currently felt. It wasn't supposed to be this hard. His life was a damn mess, and his favorite holiday didn't feel the same this year.

But Booth knew he couldn't hurt Bones. She'd had enough bad holidays as a child; he would not be a cause of one in her present. Even if he feared he had already ruined it for her this year.

Not sure if his holiday was any better, he shoved those thoughts away. Better not to think about something that was never going to happen. Bones had turned him down. Then run away from him. And he'd done his own running. They were never going to decorate a tree in a house they shared. Or exchange presents first thing on Christmas morning.

Knowing all that, he was still going to make this gift as special and as perfect as any of the others he'd given her, no matter what it cost him. And he would deny what it said about his current relationship. He wasn't putting this much effort into a gift for Hannah.

"And my hands will make it more personable?" Angela was fascinated by his thought process, not that she'd ever tell him. He clearly still felt more for Brennan that he could admit. To Angela, or Hannah, or Brenanan, or even himself. She didn't envy him.

The drawing in her hand didn't have the right tension in the figure, didn't feel like a man about to explode. Angela could fix that later.

Booth wondered what she worked on in her hands, but didn't ask. He was keeping enough secrets of his own, he wouldn't ask anyone else to give up theirs. Finally he sighed, a verbal expression of both frustration and annoyance that required no specific words.

"I want," he began before hesitating again. Knowing Angela would only say yes if she understood the purpose of what he wanted, Booth allowed the words to come out in a rush. "I want her to know she is special, that we need her. I have x-rays of when she saved Hodgins's life while they were buried in that car and when Cam almost died in the hospital. I have x-rays from when I was shot stepping in front of her. And I have a couple of others. But you are one of her closest friends. I need you in there too. Your hands, your art, are what brought the two of you together. It's who you are, Angela."

Closing the cover of the notebook slowly, Angela lifted her eyes to take a long, hard look at the man in front of her. A lifetime ago, when they'd first met, she could admit she'd been attracted to Booth. Until she'd seen Brennan look at him. A strong believer in destiny, she'd never do anything to get in its way. And despite her feelings about Booth at the moment, she wouldn't do anything to impede its progress now.

Booth met her stare levelly, allowing Angela to see whatever it was she searched for. She would either agree or she wouldn't. After a moment, she nodded.

"I'll give you what you need," she said easily. The man might have been a knight in FBI armor, but he was beginning to break beneath the strain of trying to make everyone happy. She wasn't entirely sure he was happy himself, but it was up to Booth to fix that.

"Thank you," Booth said. He had hoped, but until her agreement, wasn't sure he could persuade her to do it. "When would you like me to pick it up?"

Angela waved a hand. "I'll have it done today and sent over to you."

Booth nodded, accepting the dismissal, knowing this had gone better than he'd dare to plan. His hand was on the door when Angela's voice from behind stopped him.

"Are you happy, Booth?" she asked. "Can you honestly say to yourself, to me, that you are happy with where your life is right now?" Every muscle and movement in his body told a different story than the one he verbally said to the world. How long, she wondered, could a person live such a colossal lie?

He paused, and debated whether or not to ignore her before he turned. "I'm happy, Angela." Because what other answer was there?  
She didn't respond, and he let the lie remain between them as he closed the door softly behind him. Apparently, he could live with it a little longer.


	5. Yule Log

_Sorry for the very long delay between entries. Real life, writer's block and all that..._

_Synopsis: Takes place after Santa in the Slush and the kiss under the mistletoe. What __**could**_ _have happened after the end of the episode if the writers had gone in a different direction. Booth had to drive Parker to Vermont and asks Brennan to go with him. _

_Word prompt is from the Y in Merry: Yule Log_

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The ring of the phone should have woken her; it was well after midnight and she was normally asleep at that hour. Unfortunately, this night her mind refused to quiet after visiting with her family for Christmas.

Yes, she'd seen them in jail. But they were still her family. The one she'd never expected to see again. Now, she was building a relationship with them. And giving up digs in foreign countries to spend time with them. Her life had certainly changed since meeting Booth.

Pushing back the covers, she sat up and propped up the pillows behind her. Figured her thoughts would turn to him. He was most of the reason she was having trouble sleeping. Remembering the kiss they'd shared in order to earn that Christmas celebration wasn't helping her fall asleep either.

Damn Caroline for forcing her to compartmentalize her attraction to him all over again.

Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

He was her friend. They were partners. Friends. Partners. Not a romantic couple. The kiss wasn't romantic. The thoughts were the reason she couldn't sleep.

She didn't want to answer that ringing phone. Didn't want to hear the warm sound of his voice inside her head when she was trying so hard to forget. But the hour was late and he had Parker. No matter how unsure she felt about Booth, or her own feelings for him, she couldn't ignore his call, just in case there was something wrong with the little boy.

"Booth," she greeted softly. "It's late. Is everything okay with Parker?"

A warm feeling settled into his stomach when he heard the question. That she was worried about his son, felt affection for him, always made him feel good.

Just like how that kiss had made him feel.

God. The warm feeling turned hot as he recalled the feel of her mouth on his. And the fact that on his nightstand there was a pack of the same gum she'd been chewing? Well, he could come up with a lot of stories for that one, but none of them would be close to the truth.

Was he trying to forget that kiss? Or burn it so deeply in his memory he would always remember it? Like he remembered the first one they'd shared.

"Parker's fine," Booth said. "I called to ask you a question."

His son had managed to get everything he wanted this holiday season. Christmas morning with his father and a ski trip to Vermont with his mother. His methods had been a little sketchy, but Booth couldn't help but respect the ingenuity behind them.

Not that he'd let Parker know that. This time it had turned out okay, but Parker couldn't be pulling tricks like this again.

But he wasn't calling about Parker. His son wasn't what was keeping him awake tonight.

It was the woman currently on the phone with him. And the kiss that had reawakened everything he'd tried to forget since their very first case together.

"A question?" she echoed. "This question couldn't wait until morning?"

"It's after midnight," Booth pointed out. "Doesn't that count as Christmas morning?"

"If Parker got up right now, would you let him think it was Christmas morning?"

Leave it to her to use his son to win the argument. He abandoned it, knowing they could go on like this for awhile. "Do you want to hear the question, or not?"

"Of course, I do. Especially if you thought it was important enough to call me in the middle of the night to ask me."

"Oh. Okay." Her easy agreement caught him off guard. She was usually full of questions about everything and he was suddenly very uncomfortable. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. If he was trying to forget that kiss, and the look on her face when she saw the Christmas tree he'd gifted her with, asking this question might be one of the worst ideas he ever had.

But what was the point of life, of all of this, if you didn't take a chance once in a while? You missed one hundred percent of the shots you didn't take. Right?

"Booth," she said softly in his ear. "Are you going to ask me?"

Deep breath. Yes, he was going to ask. Just give him a second. He took another breath. "Are you interested in riding to Vermont with me?" he blurted out.

Silence fell between them while Booth waited for her response. Unnerved by the lack of sound, he hurried to fill it. "It's an eight hour drive to the resort. I booked a room in a nearby hotel so I could sleep before I turned around and came home. I just thought you might like to keep me company. I would like the company," he admitted to her. "Your company," he added, just in case she thought anyone would do.

Booth pressed his lips together. He was babbling and she would need time to process.

On her end, Brennan's brain scrambled to make sense of everything he'd just said to her. Sixteen hours round trip in a car. A hotel room. A lot of questions with answers she couldn't figure out.

Questions she wasn't sure she should even ask. It was too late and she was too confused to make sense of this request. Should she take it at face value, as a simple desire to not spend hours in a car alone? Or was there something else there?

Get more facts about what he was asking, she thought. Then maybe she'd have a better understanding of the implications of the question.

"One room, Booth?" she asked. "Are we sharing a bed as well?" Her voice was light, hiding the tension beneath.

He tried to read the nuances of her voice. Why hadn't he just gone to her place tomorrow morning and asked? At least then he'd be able to see her face. That had to be better than figuring out what was going on in her head using only what he could hear through the phone.

"Well, yeah, I guess." He ran a hand over the back of his neck. "On the room, not the beds. It has two beds. Didn't think it would be a problem. We've had tighter quarters when we were undercover. And there wasn't much available considering it was Christmas week." Booth held his breath, waiting for her response.

Brennan narrowed her eyes and stared out the window of her bedroom. Sure they'd been in smaller places, sharing a room and even a bed. And while they'd often been wrapped in each other's arms when they woke, nothing had ever happened. Was that why he was comfortable asking? Because he didn't feel that way about her?

Then why had they let that kiss go on for as long as it had?

Did the hidden meaning even matter? He wanted her to go and she was going.

Booth had been holding his breath for so long, he thought he might pass out. He could hear her breathing on the other end of the line and he wondered if she was working up the courage to say yes, or no.

Brennan finally ended his misery. "I'd like to go with you, Booth. Perhaps we can extend the room for one day and go skiing ourselves. Since I am no longer going to Peru, I find that I have some extra time on my hands."

Where had that come from? She'd barely been thinking the idea before saying the words. In fact, she hadn't been aware of the thought at all until the words came out of her mouth. It was impulsive and crazy and opposite of the way she lived her life.

Maybe just once she could be that spontaneous person. If he said no, she'd know better than to try again.

The air left his lungs with a whoosh. "That sounds great, Bones," he said. Excitement made him louder than he wanted to be and he lowered his voice. "I'll call the hotel and see about the room."

Settling the logistics, they wrapped up the conversation quickly. After hanging up, both stayed awake for a long time, trying to decide what the whole thing meant. He'd called and asked her to spend a significant amount of time with him. She'd countered by adding even more time to the original plan.

Was this something they were doing as partners? Or had both of them just taken a step beyond the line Booth had drawn? A line they'd both respected until Caroline and her puckish side had made an appearance.

Neither came up with a clear answer. But both were anxious to find out.

OOOOOOOOO

"Bones, Bones, Bones, Bones, Bones," Parker chanted from the backseat when Booth pulled up to the curb.

"Easy back there," Booth said, laughing at his son's enthusiasm. "It's a long drive to Vermont. Give her time to get in the car before you start making her crazy."

Parker made a face and Booth shook his head as he exited the vehicle. "You ready, Bones?" he asked, reaching for the suitcase next to her.

But she didn't take her hand off of it. Instead, she looked at him, the concern clear in her eyes.

She'd spent most of the hours until dawn trying to figure out what all of this meant, her thoughts spinning in circles until she was dizzy. It was a trip as friends, right? Just friends and partners.

"Did you change your mind?" he asked. Damn it. She'd had too much time to think about what they were doing. So had he, but he'd ignored all the doubts and questions in his own mind. "I called and extended our stay by one day. If you don't want to go anymore, that's fine." But she was standing there with her suitcase. Surely that meant she still planned on getting in the SUV.

"I didn't change my mind. I don't change my mind after I've made a decision. You know that." Her hand remained on the handle of her suitcase.

"So then what's the problem?" The question came out harsher than he intended. Already nervous about what was or wasn't happening between them, her hesitation wasn't helping.

He was reading too much into every reaction. Or non reaction. One simple kiss and the door was opened to all sorts of scenarios he hadn't allowed himself to consider. To do so, when he was sure she wasn't interested in him that way, was a dangerous road to walk. Now, he was not only thinking about them as a couple, but doing things to see if it was actually feasible.

She tilted her head to the side while she studied him. What could she see going through his eyes? Never one to hide from her, Booth met the stare, daring her without words to say whatever was on her mind.

"There is no problem. Just trying to decide what all of this means," she admitted softly. Then she removed her hand from the suitcase and climbed into the passenger seat, not giving him time to formulate a response.

Booth watched his son's animated reaction to her arrival. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he again considered that this might have been the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Every comment, every question was loaded with double meaning. Except Bones didn't do that. So when she said she wasn't sure about this, she meant it.

She had the same concerns he did. It should have made him more nervous, but somehow it was reassuring.

If she was brave enough to get in that SUV, questioning exactly what was going to happen in the next several days, he had to do the same. Because there wouldn't be another chance. Take it now, or forever accept that there would be nothing more between them.

But he saw his destiny when he looked in her eyes. A destiny he'd done his best not to think about for several years. They'd dated other people. Drew lines that neither had dared cross.

One kiss and the protection he'd built around his heart was gone.

No, not taking this trip with her wasn't an option.

Loading her suitcase, he climbed into the driver's seat. "You ready?" he asked, glancing between his partner and his son in the back seat.

Parker tightened his seatbelt. "I'm ready," he announced.

Brennan gave him an enigmatic smile as she buckled her own belt. "We are ready, Booth."

OOOOOOOOOO

Parker kept them occupied until just after lunch. They heard stories about his classmates and the school trips he'd taken. He asked Bones a million and one questions and she answered every one. With enough detail that even Booth's head was spinning with all the things he learned.

He'd never understand how one brain could store that much information.

A half an hour after eating, Parker was slumped over in the back, his seatbelt the only thing keeping him from tipping over. Booth shook his head at the boneless way kids managed to sleep. If he'd tried to rest in that position, he wouldn't be able to move for a week.

"You can nap if you need to, Bones. You don't have to stay awake with me."

"I thought you wanted my company," she pointed out. A quick glance in her direction had Booth catching the hurt look on her face. "What was the point of asking me if we weren't going to spend time together?"

Booth sighed. "I thought you might be tired since I called you in the middle of the night, that's all." Damn. He hated how that kiss made every comment seem like it had hidden meaning. Days ago they were simply partners and friends. Now, it appeared neither of them were quite sure what they were.

Or what they wanted to be.

"You ever skied before?" Brennan asked. "I am pretty good at it. But it's been a few years since I've been."

"I'll be able to keep up with you," Booth reassured her. "But I haven't been for a long time either. I checked and the resort has skis we can rent." Glancing in the mirror at his still sleeping son, Booth lowered his voice. "I didn't tell him what we were doing. I didn't want him bugging his mother to get to do something with me. She's already annoyed that he ran away to spend Christmas morning at my house. I don't want to push my luck, you know?"

"Of course, Booth. I understand. What else would you like to talk about?"

"How was Christmas with your family?"

"It was," Brennan began before pressing her lips together. Booth, knowing she was trying to find the words, drove in silence. "It was nice," she said softly. "And unexpected. The girls didn't realize Russ was also incarcerated, so for them, it was just an amazing surprise."

"Why unexpected?" Booth asked. "Did you think your family wouldn't be happy to see you? Or that they wouldn't appreciate everything you did to make sure that it happened?"

Like the kiss they were still not talking about.

"You helped," Brennan reminded him. "The tree was beautiful. The kiss was nice too," she added. "Kissing you was as pleasant as I remembered."

Well, Booth was wrong about that. Apparently they were talking about it. And not in an abstract sort of way. Bones was just going to dive right in.

"Pleasant isn't a word that should be used to describe that kiss," Booth said, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. Dammit, his son was sleeping right behind them. They shouldn't be talking about this now.

"Oh," Brennan said, Her eyes drifted down to her lap where she'd clenched her hands together. If pleasant wasn't a word Booth wanted to use, then it seemed he hadn't enjoyed the kiss as much as she had. The sigh she released filled the car. "I think you were right, Booth. I am tired. I'm just going to close my eyes and nap for a little bit."

"Bones, no," Booth said quickly, knowing how she interpreted his last comment. Giving the mirror another glance to make sure Parker was still asleep, Booth reached over to squeeze her hands.

"That kiss was surprising," he confessed in a whisper. "It was hot. It's made me think about things that I shouldn't be thinking about. But no kiss that ends with your gum in my mouth should ever be called pleasant."

Flipping her hand, Brennan laced her fingers between his and squeezed before letting go. "Okay," she said. Her tone made it sound like Booth had just answered a thousand questions she hadn't dared to ask. And knowing he was nervous about Parker waking up, changed the subject again. "Tell me about your Christmas morning."

OOOOOOOOO

The drive passed quickly and Brennan was surprised at how much she enjoyed it. But she'd always enjoyed spending time with Booth and Parker was a wonderful addition. His enthusiasm for everything helped the time pass quickly.

"Thanks for coming with me, Bones," Booth said as he dropped her suitcase on the bed near the windows. He always chose the one closest to the door. Before their arrival, someone had tuned the television to a burning yule log, apparently hoping to set some sort of holiday mood in the room.

Brennan gave it a cursory glance before turning her back to it. "It was an enjoyable ride. I always enjoy spending time with Parker. And you," she added. Unzipping her suitcase, she took some clothes into her hands before dropping them again. "What are we doing?" she asked suddenly.

He was prepared to answer literally, but held himself back. It wasn't what she was asking and it wouldn't help to pretend that it was. But he wasn't sure himself. "What do you want us to be doing?"

Grabbing the clothes again, she moved away to put them in a small dresser. She always unpacked when she traveled. While the hotel wasn't of a type she typically stayed in, Booth had done well in his choice. "We kissed in my office, you asked me to spend hours in a car with you and then I asked you to go skiing."

Booth sat on the edge of his bed and watched her. "That sums up the big moments during the last several days."

She expected humor in his eyes when she glanced up at him, but his were serious as they met hers. "You drew a line," she reminded him as she looked away again.

"After Cam," he said and she nodded her head. "I thought it would keep me safe. Keep all of you safe. Gave me something to stand behind on the days I couldn't quite deny I was falling for you."

"Falling for me?" she echoed, trying to catalog the phrase.

He nodded. "You know? Wanting to date you. Wanting to kiss you."

"Oh," she said softly. "And now?"

His palms rubbed along his thighs nervously. His eyes stayed down as he said the rest. "Now I don't want you to run if I admit I'd like to erase the line." Afraid to look up, knowing he had to, he forced his body to complete the action.

She was watching him, and he saw what he expected. Fear. Withdrawal. But he saw other things as well. Emotions he didn't want to read incorrectly, but that made him think she might still be there in the morning.

If had taken her months to admit it after not sailing away with Sully, but she'd stayed for him. The words had never been spoken aloud, said to another person or even to herself in the privacy of her own home, but the truth was there in her head. If that was the reason a year ago, wasn't this chance what she'd been waiting for?

But that's all it was. A chance. "What happens if it doesn't work? Erasing the line. I don't know how to do long term, Booth."

They were still on the opposite side of the room from each other. Between them, the television still displayed the cheerfully burning yule log. "We both know how to do one day at a time, Bones. Lunches. Dinners. Movies," he listed. "We know how to do those. I'm sure we can build from there."

"We are so different," she said. They were the facts and the fears that made her sure anything between them would eventually fall apart. "Believe in different things. See the world in different ways."

"We do," he agreed. "We are, different people." Tired of being so far away from her, he rose from the bed and moved until he was close enough to touch her. But he didn't. "We push each other out of our comfort zones. To see the world in ways we never thought about. That makes us stronger, not weaker."

There were so many reasons not to do this. Their partnership, their friendship was on the line. Despite every warning bell that was ringing in her head, she closed her eyes and nodded.

"Okay," she said, reopening her eyes to stare into his. "Let's erase the line."

He almost jolted in shock at her words. "I'd ask if you're sure, but you wouldn't have said it if you weren't." A deep breath had his shoulders lifting toward the ceiling. "I'm going to ask anyway." He laughed softly. "Are you sure?"

"Lunches, dinners, movies, skiing. One day at a time. Careful steps. I can do those things." There was still anxiety in her eyes, but also trust. "I'll try to make you happy."

"You aren't going to have to try very hard. You've always made me happy even when you make me crazy." Reaching out, he took a hand in his. "Come on. We'll start with dinner."


	6. Candy

_Synopsis: A fight, a confession, making up._

_The word is the C in Christmas - Candy - And I totally used this word in a different way than it was intended._

OOOOOOOOO

"We are over, Booth. This is over. Tonight is over."

Ten days. They'd been a couple a grand total of ten days. And already she was trying to call the whole thing off. Not too long ago, he might have listened and left. But no way was this going to end over something so ridiculous.

In fact, this wasn't going to end at all. Not unless time itself was ending.

She stormed into her apartment and tried to slam the door behind her. He was so close on her heels, he kicked it open again to enter her place, then slammed it for both of them.

Their anger was so hot, he could see it pulsing between them. "We aren't over," he disagreed. "Tonight or any other night." Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the door. The position looked casual. The tension in his body said it was anything but. "We've barely begun."

"Sure you wouldn't rather go back to Candy?" Brennan asked. "You definitely looked like you were ready to begin something with her."

She'd come out of the bathroom to see the woman wrapped around Booth, whispering something in his ear. He definitely hadn't appeared to be a willing participant, Brennan could give him credit for that. It hadn't bothered her at first, she trusted Booth implicity. Standing back, she watched as he'd finally freed himself, saying something that had sent the woman on her way.

A bit unsteadily. Someone should have called her a cab.

They'd actually laughed about it when Brennan arrived back at his side. Candy's drunken whisperings had included her name and what might have been a phone number. Booth couldn't be sure; she'd listed too many digits for it to work.

The amusement with the whole thing had lasted until Booth left to get the car. And Brennan had stepped outside in time to see Candy with a lot more than her arms on Booth. Now her lips were on his and her hands were buried some place beneath his coat.

And his hands were gripping her upper arms. He'd done that to Brennan once or twice, when he wanted to pull her into him. Seemed he was more interested in pulling Candy into him right then.

The last she'd seen of the blonde, Candy was sitting on her ass on the sidewalk. That was where she landed when Brennan physically separated the pair. If she'd waited long enough, she might have caught the horrified look on Booth's face as she got into the cab and left him outside the bar.

She got into cabs and left him behind a lot. Might be time to come up with a new way of escaping. And she'd probably taken the cab that had been called for Candy. Internally, she shrugged. Too bad.

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you, Bones," Booth said, drawing her attention back to him. He'd followed the cab so closely, if the driver had stepped too hard on the brakes, he would have hit them.

Was it wrong that he was happy with her jealousy? It was nice to know she was as emotionally invested in this relationship as he was. Even if she appeared to be trying to end it.

But Brennan was shaking her head in denial. It was more than some petty emotion. Booth wouldn't cheat on her. It went against everything he was.

This was memories and nightmares. Her fears coming to life right in front of her eyes. But she wasn't going to tell him that. Admitting her insecurities wasn't something she wanted to do.

Candy, and all that blonde hair, had been a stark reminder of when she hadn't been strong enough, brave enough to take a chance with him. That's all she could feel right now. That's what she was angry about.

Booth was with her, would stay with her. He wasn't going anywhere unless he listened to the words she'd foolishly said to him as they entered the apartment. So angry at herself she'd wanted him to go, Brennan wasn't sure what she'd do if he actually listened.

When she turned away from him, wouldn't even give him the courtesy of speaking to him face to face, he pushed himself off the door and took a step toward her. "We aren't over, Bones. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on with you. You know that was all Candy and not me."

"Tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours," he said. His voice was gentler now. The passionate anger was draining from the room, leaving an emotion he couldn't read in its place.

He'd waited too long for this, for Bones to accept him as more than a partner, to lose her over some incident outside a bar.

Back still facing him, she shook her head. "Get out, Booth," she ordered. "I just want to be alone."

A hand gripped her upper arm and he used the leverage to turn her toward him. He didn't force her; she could have broken free easily. But she allowed him to complete the motion.

Because by the time he turned her, she had her walls and mask firmly in place. If he didn't want to leave her alone, fine. But that didn't mean she had to give him anymore of herself.

Didn't have to tell him what nightmare had made a very unwelcome appearance right in front of her eyes.

"Don't you hide yourself from me," he said harshly. "Do you really think I can't see what you're doing? You aren't going to close yourself off to make it easier for you to leave. That's not how you and I do things. Not anymore."

She didn't respond, but her eyes sparked. Booth seized on the opening. "I came out to the car, turned around to find you and she was in my face. Attached to my face," he said with a bitter laugh. "I don't hit women, but if I'd known you were going to react like this, I might have broken her arms when I grabbed them to push her away."

Eyes hard, he made the threat without raising his voice.

"Don't you resort to violence to somehow protect me," she snapped. A sharp tug freed her arm from his grasp. "I am the one who actually split the two of you up, after all. I can protect myself."

"I've protected you with violence before," he reminded her. "Don't think for a moment I wouldn't do it again. Your heart," he said, reaching up to brush his knuckles down her cheek, "is just as important as the rest of you."

She stepped back away from his touch. "Just let me go, Booth."

His hand fell back to his side. "I'll let you be, Bones. But I won't let you go. Just tell me what has you so upset. I don't understand. She was just a drunk blonde that we'll probably never see again."

He saw her flinch at the sentence. There were only a couple of words there that had the power to make her react that way.

Drunk. Blonde.

The first didn't make a lot of sense. But the second? That one had possibilities.

When she moved around him and headed toward the bedroom, he let her pass. He didn't follow her movements but heard her stop just outside the door. When the sound of it opening never came, he forced himself to turn toward her.

"Something you want to tell me?" he asked when the silence stretched out. He feared what it might be, but at this point, it didn't really matter. She'd already tried to end their relationship. Was there anything worse?

Brennan closed her eyes so she couldn't see his face. And Booth braced himself. If she didn't want to see his reaction, it couldn't be good.

If she was in this relationship, despite everything she'd just said to him, then it was important to be honest with him. That's what all the books said. Communication was key. If she failed at that in the first month, how would they make it years?

"She reminded me of another blonde." Her eyes were open again, but she stared at the closed door. "One I almost lost you to," she explained softly. "Did lose you to, though that was my fault. I worry she might come back someday. Would you still pick me over her?" Brennan asked softly. Then opened the door, and walked into the room, disappearing before he had time to respond.

OOOOOOOOOO

"_I don't think we're done. But I can see we're done for now."_

The words echoed in his head, one of the last things he'd ever heard from her. But he had never repeated that conversation to Bones. There was no way for her to know what Hannah had said to him as she walked away.

Still standing where she'd left him, Booth stared at that closed door. Hannah wasn't a consolation prize, that's what he'd said to Bones on that rainy night in the SUV. Did Bones now think she was the consolation prize? That if Hannah came back from whatever war torn country she was currently in, that Booth would actually choose her.

That was a serious amount of insecurity he hadn't picked up on. He'd been worried Bones might change her mind. Never once had he considered that she might have the same fears about him.

Both hands scrubbed over his face. How had one night out after work gotten so horrible off track?

In order to give her a few more minutes alone, Booth took off his shoes and put them by the door. Then slid his arms from his jacket and tossed it over a chair in the kitchen. He had comfortable clothes in the room she was currently in. They were spending so much time at each other's places that it only made sense to have spare clothes.

Passing through the kitchen, he opened the cupboard where she kept the alcohol and grabbed a bottle. He considered glasses, but walked away without them.

Silent steps took him to the closed door. Resting a palm against the wood, he listened for any sounds coming from inside. But there was nothing. Preparing himself for whatever he might see when he turned the knob, Booth opened the door without knocking. She had to know that he hadn't left the apartment.

Brennan sat in the center of the bed they'd shared on more than one occasion. If they weren't sharing it, it was because they were at his place. The clothes from the drawer reserved for him were strewn around the room and one look at her told Booth why.

She was wearing one of his shirts.

That told him more about what she really wanted than any of her words had.

Her eyes were dry when she looked up at him. But she'd dropped the mask and he could see the confusion and fear swirling around the blue depths.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," she whispered. The bed sank beneath his weight as he sat and she adjusted herself to give him room. Her eyes drifted to the bottle in his hand.

Twisting off the cap, he handed it to her. She took a healthy swallow and passed it back, watching as he did the same.

"Which part?" Booth asked. "You said a lot of things I didn't expect to hear tonight."

"About us being over," she replied. "Anything I said about you and the blonde outside the bar. I know you had no part in it, Booth."

"Then you meant the rest? About me choosing Hannah over you if she ever came back?" This time, he took a drink first. He wasn't sure how to feel about that conclusion. Did she trust him so little? Or was it her fear that she wouldn't be enough for him that was making an appearance?

"Why wouldn't you?" she asked. It sounded like a question she'd already asked herself more than once. "You loved her enough to move in with her. To ask her to marry you." Those were simply the facts. He couldn't deny the facts. Scared of his answer, she took another drink, grimacing as the liquid ran down her throat.

Booth hummed an agreement. "I did," he said easily. "Past tense. You're who I want, Bones. I will move in with you, marry you too, when you are ready for those things.

Her eyes flew to his. "Relax," he reassured her. "I'm not asking. Yet." It was both a promise and a warning.

"But," he continued, taking the bottle back from her, "none of those things is contingent on Hannah staying away. I'm with you now, whether she comes back or not. I loved her, then. I love you, now and always. The one I love the most." Booth ran his free hand down her back. "She didn't want those fifty years with me. You want them, as long as we take them one day at a time."

"I honestly didn't think I was worried about it. But I'm not blonde. I don't have great social skills."

"Thank God," Booth said. Feeling that the crisis was over, he recapped the bottle and placed it on the stand next to her bed. "I don't want any of those things since they aren't you. I want you, in whatever form you come in."

"I don't want you to leave." She wrapped her arms around herself and started to rock back and forth. "It took me so long to be brave enough for this. I'm sorry I ever said it to you. I won't do it again."

"You might," Booth said. Reaching out, he hauled her into his lap. "But you won't ever say it to me because I chose another woman over you. Not going to happen."

He was relieved when she tucked herself into him. "You are enough for me, Bones. All I'll ever want. Find something else to worry about. You're wasting your time on this one."

She sighed. "I need to clean this room up. Put your clothes back."

"I think we should start with the one you are wearing," Booth suggested. Turning her so she straddled his lap, his hands slid on the bare skin beneath the shirt, lifting it toward her shoulders. "If you don't wear it too long, we won't have to wash it."

Pulling it over her head, he tossed it to the floor with the rest of the clothes she'd thrown from the drawer. "I love you," Booth said. His voice was harsh with the truth of it. "Just you. Always you. There is no one that could ever come between us."


	7. Hot Chocolate

_Synopsis: Takes place during their separation. Hannah doesn't exist. Brennan decides to call Booth at Christmas and change the course of their future._

_The letter is the H in Christmas - Hot Chocolate_

_I'm clearly going to finish these letters well after Christmas...but I'm going to keep going._

_OOOOOOOOOOO_

"Dr. Brennan! It's Christmas Eve. Don't you want to come join us for the holiday meal? And the alcohol?"

Gritting her teeth, Brennan fought the urge to snap at Daisy. After all this time, she should have adjusted to her intern's irritating ways, but lately, her annoyance had only grown. And grown. And grown. "No, Ms. Wick. I have no desire to join the dinner. It is the perfect opportunity to get some work done in my tent. There will be fewer people using the Internet, which will make it easier for me to work."

It wasn't only work she was thinking about. There was the holiday season and the man in a war zone who wasn't there to celebrate it with her.

She'd had plenty of time during their separation to think about their past. And the future. A future she could no longer envision without him in it. It was time to find out if he was still interested in the same thing.

Brennan hoped he was. Thought he might be. But she was going to have to take the first step this time.

Tonight seemed like the perfect time to do it. It was, after all, both an eve and a day. A Christmas miracle.

"Oh." Daisy's face fell momentarily before perking up again. "That is a good point. Maybe I will do so as well." If Dr. Brennan was working, she would too.

There was no hiding the look of displeasure that flashed across Brennan's face. In order to follow through on her plans, Brennan needed Daisy to not be in the tent with her.

Daisy, read the look easily and took a step back. "But this will be one of the few celebratory dinners we've had," she said, attempting to backtrack on her previous statement. "I think I will join in after all."

"Wonderful," Brennan said, already reaching for her laptop case. "Make sure and stay as long as you want. I'm sure the celebration will go well into the night."

Recognizing a dismissal when she heard it, Daisy finished backing out of the tent and turned toward the area where the other members of their team were already starting to gather. Whatever her mentor had planned for that evening, it was clear she wanted privacy for it. Daisy decided it would make a fine Christmas gift to give it to her.

Waiting until the tent flap had fallen closed behind Daisy, Brennan reached into the pocket of her bag and pulled out a worn envelope. Folded open and closed so often the paper was ripped, Brennan fingered one of the creases before opening it again.

Booth's bold handwriting greeted her. He'd penned a short message followed by various ways she could contact him.

She'd yet to use any of them.

At first, their parting had been too painful, the worry too great for her to think about exactly where he was writing from. After that came the feelings that he was better off without her. Better off forgetting about what they'd had, what they could have had if that night outside Sweets's office had ended differently.

Now, she just missed him. And feared that it was too late to write that first letter to him. So much time had passed. More than half of their time apart. Soon they would meet at the coffee cart in DC and nothing would have changed. He'd keep dating and she'd keep watching it happen. A handsome man like him would find someone. And it wouldn't be her.

It was too late to change the past. Too late to ask him to just give her a second to think about what he was asking of her. She hadn't made a mistake that night, Brennan still believed that. She hadn't been ready to risk her heart with him.

Not being sure, knowing her own fears might have forced her to take a step back after agreeing to take a chance with him, would have broken something between them. Now with time, space, and distance from that moment, Brennan knew she was ready.

Ready for more, whatever that turned out to be.

He was half a world away and she wasn't sure how to bridge the gap between them. But it wasn't too late to wish him Merry Christmas. Maybe she could just start there. And their whole future was still in front of them. A future she could change. It was time to admit she wanted to.

She didn't know his schedule. Didn't know if he was out on a mission and nowhere near his computer. But it was Christmas and things tended to slow down everywhere during that day. So there was a chance she could catch him.

Decision made, afraid that if she waited too long she'd change her mind, Brennan flipped up the screen to her laptop and opened the video chat program.

OOOOOOOOO

Booth was still laughing as he left the tent and headed back toward his own. The holiday meal had been better than he expected, as had the company. It was hard being away from family at Christmas, but being with others going through the same thing he was made it a little easier.

Pausing, he tipped his head back to stare at the sky. The warmth of the December evening wasn't something he'd ever get used to. Missing home, he sent a prayer up for his family, for those friends celebrating Christmas in other parts of the world.

Then he sent up one just for Bones.

She'd never written him back or called and he wavered between acceptance of her decision and hurt. Knowing that she probably had some perfectly rational explanation for her choice didn't make it easier to accept. He'd told her he was going to move on, and while he was realizing that might be a little harder than he thought, it appeared she had taken him at face value.

He was moving on and she was giving him space to do it. One evening of words that hadn't clearly defined his feelings, of allowing the hurt of her refusal to take over all rational thought, had changed everything.

Lord, how he missed her. Missed her laugh and her smile and her inability to understand any of the pop culture references he used. And the way she looked at him from across the table at the diner. The way his hand felt in the small of her back and the touch of her hand against his.

If a year apart wasn't enough for him to get over her, what else was there? The only thing left was to leave the city entirely, and Booth wasn't sure he was ready to do that. All these months without her had been too long. A lifetime without ever speaking to her again wasn't something he could contemplate.

Shaking his head, Booth kicked at the sand before continuing back to his cot. It felt like sleep would be a long time coming tonight. Regret, the feeling of loss that never quite went away, kept him awake more often than he liked.

He was alone in his tent and Booth was thankful. Most of the men would stay gathered together sharing the gifts that had arrived from loved ones. And while he appreciated the camaraderie, tonight the thoughts of home were just a bit too close to let him enjoy it fully.

Powering up his laptop, Booth planned to look for an email from Pops and send a few Christmas messages of his own.

Instead he was greeted with fourteen missed video messaging calls.

"Parker. Pops," Booth whispered in distress, accessing the missed call history. All the calls came from the same number, but it wasn't one he recognized. His son and grandfather's numbers were easily identifiable after the number of times they'd talked. This number was new.

Just as his heart rate settled, it raced again. His fingers brushed against the screen as a new worry popped up.

"Bones."

Realizing his hand had started to shake, Booth clenched his fingers tight. It didn't mean it was bad news. She was probably fine. It was supposed to be safe where she was going.

But he wouldn't have been surprised to hear she'd found a murder victim somewhere on Maluku. Still, that wouldn't explain the sheer volume of calls in such a short period of time.

She was hurt. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath, fighting for the calm that he'd managed to maintain during everything he'd faced since leaving DC. She was hurt and he was thousands of miles away in a war zone, the one place he wouldn't be able to leave to get to her side.

The sick feeling in his gut forced him to face other truths as well. Time, space had done nothing to lesson what he felt for her. The thought of her hurt, of what that might mean, was something he couldn't think about without going a little crazy. Nothing had changed. He wasn't ever going to leave DC or her side again.

Studying the missed calls, he noted they'd been coming at fifteen minute intervals. Looking at his watch, that meant there would be another in five minutes.

Propping pillows behind him, Booth settled the laptop on his lap, readying himself for the longest five minutes of his life.

OOOOOOOOO

She'd been dialing every fifteen minutes for several hours and was prepared to do it for several more. If unable to reach him by then, Brennan figured she'd try again every day until she was successful.

Now that her decision was made, there would be no giving up until she spoke to him.

In the distance there was raucous laughter and she recognized that her fellow scientists were more drunk than sober. Thankful the party didn't seem to be ending anytime soon, Brennan redialed the number Booth had given her.

And when this time he answered, every word she rehearsed in her head disappeared.

He was tan from the sun and his brown eyes shone with delight as he recognized her. Better looking than the face that was always just behind her closed eyes. It had been too long since seeing and talking to him and she regretted ignoring the only communication she'd received from him.

"Hey, Booth," she managed. Then a couple more words. "Merry Christmas Eve."

He'd had five minutes to imagine a thousand scenarios. Not one of them had included her face appearing in the center of his screen. "Bones?" There was genuine shock in his voice. Then he laughed in disbelief. "Bones!" He blinked hard, but she was still there when he opened his eyes. "What...why...are you okay?"

Brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded her head. "Of course. Where we are is very safe. Why wouldn't I be?"

Why wouldn't she be? Knowing she had no idea what he'd spent the last five minutes thinking about, he just shook his head. "Listen, Bones, as excited as I am to talk to you, the number of times you called me had me a little worried." A lot worried. Terrified actually, but that feeling was fading fast now that he was staring into her blue eyes. "That's all. Nevermind that. How are you? I love the hair."

He couldn't believe, after all this time, she was staring back at him. Months of nothing but silence and now this.

The tension flowed out of her shoulders through the fingers she lifted to brush at the bangs. She was never going this long without talking to him again. "Something different." Her eyes traveled over what little of him she could see, automatically looking for bruises and injuries. "Are you staying safe?" she demanded. "Not taking unnecessary chances." Fingering the envelope she hadn't put away, she added one more thought. "You need to come home to me."

"Safe as I can be, Bones." The last sentence had been worded so oddly, implying a type of relationship that didn't exist between them, he wasn't sure how to take it. He knew what he wanted it to mean. "Find anything exciting over there in the tropics?"

She looked so good. There was a picture of her that he carried with him always, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. Maybe she'd sent him another.

Her eyes changed and Booth recognized disappointment. "It is not like I was led to believe it would be. We haven't found anything that's important." Sighing, her eyes darted away before returning to his again. "There are days I think I may have made a mistake, agreeing to come here for a year."

The confession was whispered, an admission to herself more than him.

"Yeah," Booth said, his own eyes looking around the barren tent. "I know what you mean."

"I'd told you I couldn't change, but I was wrong." His eyes flew back to hers when she continued. "My heart doesn't only lie with ancient remains anymore, but with you as well, and what we do together. A year away from the work we do together is too much." Passionate blue eyes met his slightly shocked brown ones. "Besides," she added, wanting to see him smile, "Daisy is much more difficult to handle over such a long period of time."

He didn't disappoint her, the grin brightening his whole face. "It's just so nice to see and talk to you, Bones."

But there was something between the lines of what she was saying. And Booth wished he could reach through the screen and shake her until she said it in a way he understood.

"You as well. I miss you." Sighing, Brennan knew she was going to run out of time if she wasn't careful. It was time to take that leap. "We need to talk. You need to keep staying safe so you come home to me and we can talk."

She'd made so many assumptions when she boarded that plane. That he'd survive to meet her at the coffee cart. She'd had plenty of time to think about that fateful night and the future he'd asked for. Then, she hadn't been able to promise all those years when there were no guarantees.

Staring into his face, weathered by the unrelenting sun and the desert heat, she also knew he couldn't promise he'd be there tomorrow. But he would be, as long as fate allowed him to be. And so would she.

There were no promises, no guarantee of days and years together. And while that inability to be sure had initially scared her, it was now scarier to think that he might not know the truth of what was in her heart.

No guarantees just meant she could make this moment, all the moments with Booth, whatever she wanted them to be.

"Bones, I can't promise this connection will last," he warned her. What was she saying to him? She didn't do hidden meanings, but sometimes her clarity just made him more confused. "Tell me you'll call me again. We can talk all you want. More than six months was too long to go without talking to you."

He'd lost her on the steps in DC, then lost her again when she'd stepped on the plane. Losing her again for months after this short conversation would break him.

Understanding what he needed, pleased that she could give him that, Brennan nodded. "I'll try to call you every other night at nine your time," she said immediately. It would mean middle of the night calls for her with the difference in time zones, but she didn't care. "Our service is pretty consistent here, but don't panic if I miss a night or two. Rain can interfere with it." When he nodded in understanding, she continued. "If you aren't there, can't answer, just remember I'll call in two days. Doesn't matter if it's been three weeks. Unless I," she pressed her lips together and blinked hard, allowing herself for just a second, to consider the unthinkable, "unless I hear otherwise, it's my promise to you. Nine o'clock, every other night that I can."

It was unrealistic, calling that often. And both knew their actual conversations would be much less frequent than that. Once or twice a week if they were lucky. But it gave them something to hold tightly to when the hours were long and the distance too much.

He'd hoped for some vague answer of trying when she had time. Of some loose connection that would keep him somehow in her orbit. This was too much and he closed his eyes to fight against the sudden emotion. Feeling as if he'd left the tent with the other soldiers and stepped into an alternate reality, he opened his eyes and pierced her with a glare. "What changed?" he demanded. If she was hinting at something more between them, he needed to know. "I sent you a letter and nothing. Months and not a word, now this." His voice was harsh, but she was pulling at heartstrings he thought were broken.

"We need to talk, Booth." The words spilled from her rapidly, fearing their connection would be broken before she could say what needed to be said. Just because she called tomorrow didn't mean he'd be there to answer. Or any night after that. "About what happened between us. About being more than partners."

Both hands scrubbed across his face. "There is no us, Bones. At least, not in the way I think you mean it. You were protecting me," he reminded her bitterly. "Even if I've never needed protecting from you. My heart is my own to risk, in any way I choose to do so."

This was the most honest conversation they'd had in almost a year. And they were thousands of miles apart.

"As is mine," she pointed out rationally. "Are you still interested in taking that risk?" Her teeth bit into her upper lip but she met his eyes bravely. "In being more than just work partners?"

He'd heard her questions wrong. But the signal between them was strong. What sort of Christmas miracle was this?

Her image flickered and Booth swore. "Are you asking me to wait for you? Talk fast, Bones." There wasn't time for subtlety.

"Yes," she said quickly. "I want a second chance at the question." She could hear people approaching the tent and even if the signal wasn't dying, their privacy for this conversation was going to end. "We need to talk, but will you wait for me, if I wait for you? For the two of us to… perhaps...start a relationship?"

Well, that was clear enough. Booth didn't even need to think about it. "Hell, yes," he said,

his delighted laugh echoing through when the image disappeared again. It had been so long since he'd heard the sound, it startled him. He'd lost her. But somehow, through the months and the separation, they'd found each other again.

He was reaching for the screen to close it, when she reappeared. He was going to get one more miracle tonight.

"Do you need anything, Booth?" she asked. "Is there anything I can send you?"

"A new picture of you," he said quickly. And then he blurted out another answer. "Hot chocolate." When her head tilted, he hurried to explain. "Parker and I always share it in the winter. I want to be able to drink a cup with him and no one sends that kind of mix to a desert. It's always hot here. Why would soldiers want hot chocolate?"

"You'll have it. Stay safe, Booth," she managed to squeeze in before the connection between them was lost.

"Nine o'clock," she repeated. One thirty in the morning, her time. Reaching for her phone, she set a reminder and alarm, knowing how easy it would be for her to fall asleep and miss the time to call. There was a sense of calmness settling on her she hadn't felt in almost a year and because of it, she was able to find the patience to deal with a very inebriated Daisy when her intern stumbled into the tent.

Booth would wait for her. It would be enough to get her through the rest of this dig.

OOOOOOOOO

"Bones," Booth said, then repeated. When there was no response and her face didn't reappear, he accepted that she was gone.

"Only until nine," he reminded himself, setting a reminder on his phone for both an hour and five minutes before. Closing the screen, his rested a palm on it. "Less than twenty-four hours is nothing compared to what I've already been through."

There was no guarantee he'd be there to answer her call, but because of the holidays, there was a good chance he would be.

She would send him hot chocolate, and knowing her, probably enough to share with every soldier stationed with him.

And a photo of her. Something else to look forward to.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask her. About her motivations and what she was thinking. But for the moment he could bask in the knowledge she wanted him to wait for her.

He'd been waiting for years, taken a shot and missed wildly. Waiting a few more months was going to be both the hardest and easiest thing he'd ever done.

Stepping back outside, he looked up at the sky again. He didn't know enough about the stars to even hope they saw the same thing. But there was enough romantic in him to pretend that they did.

"I don't know who to thank for something I didn't even dare pray for," he whispered into the darkness. "But whoever out there heard the wish I never gave voice to...thank you."


	8. Ribbon

_Synopsis: Angela brings Booth a gift he's not sure he wants. Set sometime after Season 12._

_Rated T for a couple of swear words from Booth. A little angsty. _

_The word for the R in Christmas - Ribbon_

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Sitting with Brennan's newest book in his lap, Booth looked up when a knock sounded at the door. Kicking himself for being so engrossed in her newest story he hadn't heard the car pull into the driveway, Booth marked his place and shot a quick glance toward the baby monitor. The kids had only finally fallen asleep a short time ago and he hoped whoever it was wouldn't wake them.

Unsure who would have arrived at their house at such a late hour, he considered unlocking his gun before approaching one of the windows and carefully pulling back a curtain. Recognizing the car, he hurried toward the door.

"Angela," he said, unable to contain his surprise at seeing her. "It's after nine. Bones still isn't home from her presentation…"

"I'm not here to see Bren," Angela interrupted. "I'm here to see you. Can I come in?"

Booth opened the door wider and stepped back, noting the giant bag she carried. Considering their line of work he could imagine a thousand things that would fit in there and none of them were good.

"Is Hodgins okay?" Booth asked. Closing and locking the door behind her, Booth followed her into the kitchen. Opening a bottle of wine and pouring her a glass, he gave her a moment to settle herself at the counter.

Their relationship as friends had been rocky over the years, but they'd been on pretty solid ground lately. He couldn't imagine what she'd come to see him about.

"Hodgins is fine," Angela said finally. "Nothing is wrong and I'm not angry. That's not why I'm here."

"Okay," Booth said easily. Leaning back he crossed his arms over his chest. "Then I have to admit that I have no idea why you'd want to talk to me without Bones being here."

"I know," Angela said, taking a drink of wine before placing the glass down gently in front of her. She toyed with the stem to avoid looking up at him. "So we are cleaning our house up to get ready for the renovations. And I was going through some of the things I've done over the years, art wise," she explained. Looking up, there was nothing but confusion and polite interest in his eyes.

"I was going to throw this one out," Angela admitted. "I do that very rarely with what I create, especially when the subject matter is a particular person, but Hodgins saw it and told me that it should be your choice, not mine. That it shouldn't be a secret I kept."

"Shit," Booth muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. After taking a deep breath, he reopened them to scan her face for a clue. "Please don't tell me that this is some sort of picture where you imagined me naked. And then drew it." His voice was an odd mixture of horrified acceptance.

Angela's sudden laugh broke the tension that had settled between them. "No," she said, shaking her head. "What I imagined of you, before I realized that you belonged with Bren, will always stay in my imagination."

He wasn't touching that comment. "So what is it then?" Booth asked. Turning from her, he poured his own glass of wine, readying himself for something, and wishing he knew what. "What did you draw that you want to show me before Bones gets home?"

Reaching into her bag, Angela pulled out a rolled canvas, tied with a bright red ribbon. She untied it slowly and flattened it, reaching for various items on the counter to hold the corners down. "This," she said, waving her hand over it. "I wanted to show you this."

His initial reaction was stunned silence. His eyes moved rapidly, cataloging what he saw. "This is me?" he asked, though he knew it was. It was incomplete but Booth was able to pick out the major details.

"Yeah," Angela said. "I left the figure turned away from the viewer so if I ever chose to do something with it, the person wasn't clearly recognizable. But it's you." She shook her head. "But I didn't hide it as well as I thought because Hodgins recognized who the figure was immediately. Of course, there are other clues that could have given it away as well."

He saw those additional clues, but was ignoring them. Taking a healthy swallow of wine before placing the glass away from her work, Booth studied the figure. "I'm not angry, but I'm not happy either," he said. His fingers danced over the canvas without touching. "You can see it in the shoulders and the way I'm standing. Tension. Indecision. Even without the face to add additional detail." He looked up at Angela. "When did you do this?"

Instead of answering, Angela watched him study her work. When nothing else was said, she responded with a question of her own. "Do you really not know?"

He knew. Maybe not the specific date, but he knew the time period. "Why did you do this?"

"A harder question," Angela acknowledged. "I watched you when you came to the lab. I alternated between genuine frustration and the strong desire to murder you and hide the body. Art was an outlet. Bren would not have been happy with me if I killed you. So I needed another outlet for my emotions. This is what I created."

"I wasn't with Bones then," he reminded her.

Angela snorted. "I couldn't have cared less what the blonde thought. And can you honestly say that you don't think Brennan would have cared if I murdered you?"

"She might have helped you," he said without amusement. His eyes were drawn back to the picture. "You drew me as a person torn. I'm both stepping toward the future and being pulled back by the past." Booth reached for the wine glass, fighting the urge to just drain it and switch to something stronger. "Is this what you saw every day?" he asked, not lifting his eyes from the canvas. "A man being torn down the middle?"

It was far enough past that he could look back critically on that time and realize that Angela had read him well. But he hadn't often given thought to what others had seen. He'd been too busy trying to keep the whole house of cards from tumbling down around him.

"Weren't you?" she asked. She ran a finger down his image on the canvas to his hands. She hadn't finished the project, but there were vague outlines of people standing both in front of and behind him. And even unfinished, it was clear who they were. "I was both angry with you and worried about you," she admitted. "None of us liked her."

Booth snorted. "I noticed. And I pretended not to. Or fooled myself into thinking you all did." He paused for a moment. "Bones certainly faked it well."

"Bren wasn't faking, Booth. You know she doesn't do things like that. That woman has always been willing to do anything to make you happy. She would have been maid of honor at your wedding and plastered a smile on her face if you'd asked it of her."

It was years of hiding his emotions that kept him from shuddering at the thought. Hannah had done him a favor when she said no. The thought of a different answer to his proposal was something his nightmares were made of.

"Bones," Booth said suddenly, tapping a finger on the outline of the person behind him in the drawing. "And Hannah," he said, moving the finger to the figure in front. "Why were you worried?"

Angela leaned back and reached for her drink. "Hannah was giving you what you needed at the time. What you thought you needed," she corrected, swirling the liquid around. "But Brennan was changing too. I was afraid that by the time you saw that Hannah really couldn't make you happy, the last chance for you and Bren was going to be gone." One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "I never quit believing in the fate that was the two of you. But, sometimes, fate doesn't win."

"It almost didn't." Reaching out, he removed the items from the corners of the canvas and watched as it rolled in on itself. "It was a long road, but we found our way." One hand came down to rest on what she'd brought him. "I'm going to keep this."

Surprised, Angela nodded. "It's yours to do with as you want, Booth. I won't ever mention it again." Finished with what she'd come for, Angela put down her wine glass and grabbed her bag. "Thanks for hearing me out. I'm sorry for bringing up bad memories."

He waved the words away. "Say hello to Hodgins for me." Waiting until she was safely in her car before closing the door behind her, Booth checked on the children before returning to the kitchen to pull out something stronger than wine.

OOOOOOOOOO

Brennan arrived home an hour later to find Booth still in the kitchen, the bottle of whiskey in front of him.

"Booth?" she asked, hurrying toward him. When she'd left, he'd been sitting on the couch. Relaxed and happy. Now, it appeared he was exactly the opposite. "Was the book that bad?"

"What? Book? Oh, this has nothing to do with your book," he said, motioning to the bottle. "What little I got to read was amazing. Your fans are going to love it." The bottle of wine was still there as well and he poured her a glass. "Angela paid me a visit."

"Okay." She tossed her bag on a chair. "Is everything okay with her?" There was a rolled art canvas next to his elbow and a limp ribbon near it. Taking the glass from him, she put it down without taking a sip. "I'm assuming the item next to you has something to do with the whiskey?"

"Go ahead," he said, shoving it toward her. "I'm not naked, at least," he said, sipping from the shot glass with a grimace. "Not physically anyway."

His skin was covered. But he'd always fooled himself into thinking that no one saw the turmoil he was going through when he'd been with Hannah. And still in love with Bones. To think he could be, or had been, so blind.

Remaining focused on the glass in front of him, he listened as she unrolled the canvas, then did what he and Angela had done to force it to remain flat. When no other sounds followed, he lifted his eyes to see Bones looking at the canvas with the expression she used when studying skeletons. Clinical and assessing. "Why'd she give this to you now?"

"She wanted to toss it. Hodgins thought I should get to decide." Booth contemplated the bottle at his elbow before recapping it. "I'm not sure whether to be annoyed with Angela for drawing it or Hodgins for thinking I needed to see it."

"Hodgins knows you don't like secrets," she reminded him absently. "And you know he was right about that, even if you don't like it." She watched him through calm eyes before going back to the canvas. "Why does this bother you so much?" Brennan asked. "This is just part of a past I thought we'd moved on from a long time ago. Angela is very talented." She licked her lips and said the next without thinking it through. "Do you regret where you ended up?"

"You have to be fucking kidding," he said, his voice low and hard. "You did not just ask me that question." Maybe he'd closed the bottle too soon.

She hadn't meant it that way. The poorly worded question had been her way of asking why this photo mattered to him so much when he was right where he wanted to be.

Raising an eyebrow at the vulgar language, the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "Guess that was an answer." His jaw remained clenched and she reached out her fingers to touch his cheek. "I apologize for asking. I know that you don't. I'm just trying to understand where you're coming from."

His own hand came up to capture hers. "Don't you ever," he said, squeezing her hand in his, "ever think that I regret a single piece of what we have." When she nodded slightly, he released his grip. "It's not the image that bothers me, Bones," he said, searching for words. "I guess I thought I was better at hiding what went on in my head. She captured me well," he admitted.

"That's what bothers you?" Brennan said. It was such a simple explanation for the whiskey and the mood. 'That you aren't the secretive, mysterious guy you always thought you were?"

"Were you only pretending to like Hannah, all those years ago?" Booth asked suddenly. "Angela said they didn't like her and I knew that even when I was pretending otherwise. How about you? Were you only pretending?"

Suddenly thankful for the wine, Brennan took a drink from the glass, then a second.

"Guess that was an answer," Booth said, tossing her earlier words back at her.

"She made you happy, or appeared to. I liked her for that reason alone." Then she sighed. "And I hated her for having what I wanted. For being the person I thought I couldn't be for you."

"Why'd you stay?" he asked. It was far enough in the past now that he could ask the questions he'd always wondered about.

"Why did you?" she countered. "It was a long time before we both ran." She considered him. "Are we really talking about this now, so long after it happened?"

"It appears we are. Maybe it's taken us this long to be ready to. I stayed because I loved you. Am blessed every day that I still get to."

"It's also why I stayed. And because you needed me. Hannah didn't know about your past. How searching for Broadsky was going to make you question everything you'd ever believed about yourself. So I stayed."

He was trying to formulate a response when she continued. "I also plotted her murder every night when I went to bed. But I couldn't ever go through with it because it would have hurt you." Putting down the glass, Brennan disappeared down the hall toward her office. She returned with one of her earlier novels in her hands, flipping quickly through the pages. "This passage," she said, turning the book toward him. "Think about what I just said and read this."

He'd read this book, he'd read all her books, some more than once, but he quickly skimmed the area she'd indicated. Then read it slower a second time. And a third. When he lifted his head, he was met with a very satisfied expression on his wife's face. "You killed her?"

"No. I killed a fictional woman who made some very poor choices. And her killer was caught at the end of the novel. Any similarities to real people is coincidence. If I'd actually killed her, I wouldn't have been caught."

He couldn't help it, he laughed. And kept laughing. "I don't know why this bothered me so much," he said when he'd quieted again. "Maybe it is just finally accepting that everyone could see what I didn't want to." He shrugged and stood to begin cleaning up. Then turned suddenly and took her into his arms. "Thank you for staying. I did need you. Still do."

"Of course, you did. What would you do without me?" She pressed a kiss to his lips."I need you too. What do you want me to do with it?" Brennan asked, moving away from him to help him finish straightening up.

"Toss it," Booth said easily. "It's not done and not something either of us is going to want

to hang up. Should have done it myself. It's part of the past and you are the future."

Crumpling it into a ball, Brennan did as he'd said. "It's not that late," she pointed out. "Do you have any plans?"

Her tone made his blood start to race. He turned to see she'd picked up her book and was turning pages again. "Maybe this would interest you?" she asked, holding it out to him.

He didn't need to read this passage more than once. "Bones, I love you." Taking her hand, he led her to the bedroom, thankful the winding road had taken him right where he wanted to be.


	9. Icicles

_Synopsis: No plot, or not much of one. Just two people spending time together and having a conversation about their past and their future._

_Thank you for all the reviews._

_The word is the I in Christmas: Icicles _

OOOOOOOOOOOO

His hand hovered over the phone for the third time in the last ten minutes before he pulled it back again. During that time, he'd been trying to come up with a reason, any reason to place that call. A desperate need to just hear her voice wasn't something he was willing to admit to.

The blizzard was over and water from icicles dripped past his office window. The roads had cleared and they'd returned to work. He was still on the antibiotics that were so large he feared he'd choke on them, but overall, Booth couldn't complain at how everything ended up.

Now he was like a nervous teenager trying to think of an excuse to call his pretty lab partner and ask for a date. Which wasn't too far from the truth. But they were finally in the same place at the same time, and now he physically wanted to be in the same place she was.

"This is ridiculous," he snapped, shuffling papers around when several agents outside his office looked up. They'd assume he was looking at budget figures and expense reports. Something he'd also been avoiding.

Running a hand through his hair, Booth stood and closed the door to his office. But not before shooting an annoyed glare at the men and women who sat out there. Several of them were not going to be happy with him when he demanded receipts and explanations for what they were claiming.

There were all these plans and ideas running circles in his head. And one clear worry. That whatever he did, whatever move he made, somehow he'd mess up this tentative step they'd taken.

It was a risk he was just going to have to take if he wanted to spend the evening with her. If he would quit procrastinating and just make the call.

"Alright. You can do this." Feeling ridiculous for giving himself a pep talk, he pressed a few numbers and there was ringing, quickly followed by the sound of her voice.

"Hey, Booth. Are you still taking the medicine like you're supposed to?"

Chuckling, Booth moved to his chair, savoring the idea she was worried about him. "I'm taking them." Reaching for a pen, he tapped it on his desk. "What are you doing tonight?"

In her own office, Brennan looked out her door where her colleagues were beginning to leave for the afternoon. She'd planned on putting in several more hours of work, but the sound of Booth's voice made her want to go to his apartment and just watch a movie with him.

She'd missed him and all the moments they spent together that made them what they were. Now, it seemed they were finally finding their way again.

For him, she'd give up the several hours of work she had planned.

"I didn't have any plans," she admitted. "What did you have in mind?"

"I know you don't like surprises, but would you be willing to just meet me in an hour? Comfortable clothes, sneakers, a coat and hat in case we end up outside?"

"That doesn't sound like a surprise, Booth. Do you actually know what we are doing tonight?"

Booth sighed. He should have known that vague wasn't going to be specific enough for her. The problem was, that was really all he had. Just spending time with her. "Bones," he said, deciding to be honest. "I have some ideas, but nothing concrete. I thought we could get together and see where the night led us."

"So no plan," she said. And despite her need for rigid schedules and definitie timetables, the idea of not knowing where they were going intrigued her. "Those conditions are satisfactory."

The tapping stopped. "Was that a yes?"

She laughed softly. "It was a yes. Pick me up in an hour. I'll be ready."

OOOOOOOO

He knocked, wondering if he should have waited in the SUV and sent a text that he was there. But when she opened her door, hair pulled back off her face, dressed in the casual clothes he'd requested, Booth knew he'd made the correct choice.

"Can I ask you a question?" Brennan reached for her keys, knowing Booth wouldn't move until he was sure she'd securely locked her apartment.

"You can ask me anything," he said, motioning for her to go first. But she didn't move, tipping her face up toward him.

"Is this a date? Our first official date? Are we dating now?"

Trying to read her, Booth hesitated. "Do you want it to be? Want us to be?" Then sighed, knowing it was long past time to be careful with what he felt for her. "I don't know if we should count something that we have already done a thousand times before. Shouldn't our first date be something fancy or special?"

She shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure we were done drawing lines between us. That this night is the first step toward something," she explained, hesitating on the last word. It was hard to let go of her need to put a label on everything.

"Not toward something," he disagreed. "Toward us. But now I'm worried I should have planned something better than what I've got." He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck.

"I'm sure whatever it is, it will be perfect." She sighed and there was contentment in the sound. "A first date sounds very nice. And since it's Friday night, we won't have to worry about how late we stay out."

He was surprised that she'd agreed to call this a date without analyzing the whole thing. Taking it as a good sign, he smiled at her. "Very practical, Bones." And this time, when he motioned for her to head toward the SUV, she started walking. "Are you hungry?"

"I didn't meet you for lunch today, so, yes, I'm hungry."

He put his hand in the small of her back as they walked out. It was a thrill, to feel her beneath his palm again, even if she was fully dressed. "So you didn't eat today?" he responded, not making any attempt to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "How do you expect to have enough energy to get through a day when you don't eat?"

When they were both in the vehicle and she still hadn't responded, Booth hesitated with his hand on the keys. "Should I apologize for what I just said?" First date and they hadn't left yet before he upset her.

"No," she answered quickly. Her hand patted his arm before pulling back again. "I just...there were some things that I thought were lost between us. Not just going to lunch together, but you worrying about whether or not I was eating."

Wanting to apologize, he opened his mouth to try, but she shook her head. "We are on the right path now, Booth. Let's see where it takes us."

"Okay," he said relieved and started the SUV. "Let's go find some dinner."

They ended up at a sandwich place not far from Brennan's apartment. It was new, and she hadn't had time to visit it.

"You been here before?" Booth asked, taking a healthy bite of his sandwich. "I like this."

"No," Brennan said. "First time. I tend not to go out to eat alone. And with no one to go with me, I just haven't come. I am pleased with the selection though and will probably visit again."

Booth's eyes darkened, but she was focused on her own meal and didn't notice. "What do you mean, you didn't have anyone to come with you?"

Lifting her eyes, she looked into his brown ones in confusion. "I meant exactly what I said."

"You could have asked me," he said sharply. "Hannah's been gone for some time, Bones, and I was under the impression that we were still friends, even before we agreed to try and be more than that. Why wouldn't you ask me?"

There was a note of pleading in his voice that surprised her. She had thought of asking him a lot of times, but unsure of where the line was, or if there even was a line anymore, she'd been waiting for him to give some sort of signal he was ready to move on.

She gave a one shouldered shrug before continuing with her meal. "You were angry and I didn't want to push. I figured when you were ready to share meals with me again, you'd show up at my apartment with food. And we've always been friends."

Knowing she never said anything she didn't mean, Booth relaxed. Then admitted to something he hadn't ever planned on telling her. "I did. Last week," he said, toying with his sandwich before taking another bite and chewing slowly. Then he wished he hadn't said anything at all, embarrassed by his behavior.

Blue eyes stunned, she stopped eating to stare at him. "You didn't knock, Booth. I was home all week. What happened?"

The very thing she'd been waiting for, a sign that he was interested in her, and he had walked away. Did it mean something that he'd made that choice?

"I stood there, at the end of the hall, looking at your door." He laughed softly, imagining the image he must have presented. Lonely guy, takeout food in his hand, eyes on the door he didn't dare knock on. "Then I turned around and left, too afraid to knock and unsure of my welcome. Went home with way too much food for one person."

His hand was on the table between them. She reached for it. "Even during the worst of times between us, you have always been welcome, Booth."

Nodding, he squeezed hard before letting her go. "Finish up, Bones. The night is still young. Plenty of things left to do."

When Booth had finished his sandwich and some of hers, they left the restaurant and returned to his SUV.

"I can't believe you ate part of my sandwich. There was no meat on it. Only vegetables."

Grimacing, Booth pulled out into traffic. "I know. I've had better." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Will you walk with me, Bones?"

His voice was soft and hesitant. Wanting desperately to be by her side, but not wanting to make the mistake of pushing her too quickly toward anything, every question seemed dangerous.

She smiled. "Whatever you want, Booth."

Nodding, they passed the next few miles in a comfortable silence, both thinking about the past they'd left behind and the future that was suddenly full of promise in front of them.

"You'll need your coat and hat," Booth said as they exited. "And your gloves too."

"I know how to dress for the weather," she said, but there was laughter in her voice. "I think I can manage."

"Well, you did spend a lot of time in that warm weather climate," Booth said. "I don't want to worry about your hands getting cold."

Rounding the front of the SUV, he smiled at her. Her hair was tucked under a gray winter hat, her shorter bangs peeking out the bottom. A warm coat and gloves that she hadn't yet put on yet were in her hands.

Taking the coat, he held it while she slid in her arms in. Then stepped back and waited for her to zip it. "Gloves?" he asked.

Looking at his bare fingers, she tucked her gloves in the pocket of her coat. Then stepped toward him and placed her hand in one of his. "You'll keep them warm," she said.

"Faith?" he asked, turning them toward the National Mall. He loved the beauty of the monuments at night and it was a safe place for the two of them to simply walk and enjoy each other's company.

"Not faith," she said. "You'd give me your own gloves if my hands were cold and I didn't have any. It's just who you are. Evidence. Not faith."

"This is my favorite place in the city," he said. "I come here a lot when I need to think. Just sit on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and watch the world go by. I've been here a lot lately," he admitted.

"Thinking about the recent events in your life?" she surmised, not wanting to mention Hannah specifically.

"Less about her," he said, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Less as each day passed. More about you. About where we went wrong and how we might go right the next time. How to get to a next time."

Joined hands swinging between them, Booth was forced to admit this was the happiest he'd been in a long time. And he was terrified of messing it up.

"I thought about the same," Brennan said. "Especially after that night in the bar. When I was sure you drew another line between us."

"Wait," Booth said. While he didn't stop, his steps did slow as he tried to figure out exactly what she was referring to. "What line?"

She pressed her lips together and Booth saw color that had nothing to do with the cold travel up her cheeks. "You told me I had to make a choice. Stay and have a drink or you'd find me a new FBI guy." There was a flash of anger in her eyes when she glanced at him. "You know I'd never work with anyone else. It was a ridiculous thing to say."

Booth opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to put his thoughts in order. "I was angry. I was upset. Do you think I didn't know what you were hoping to hear? What kind of guy would that have made me?" He thought back to that night. "You made sure I got home, dropped me off in my apartment and then I barely saw you until our next case."

His voice had risen but Brennan knew he wasn't really angry with her at this specific moment. She kept her voice calm when she responded. "You were angry with me. I wasn't sure you wanted me anywhere near you."

He was shaking her head before she finished speaking. "I wasn't angry with you." Frustrated, he ran his free hand through his hair. "This is supposed to be a date. What the hell are we doing?" he asked.

They were almost alone, most people staying inside to avoid the cold. He wasn't sure if allowing this conversation to continue was a good idea or bad.

"I believe the phrase is clearing the air," she said, smiling when he nodded, "so we can have a lot more of these nights."

The implication that she wanted more nights of walking and holding his hand had him tamping down his annoyance with the conversation. "I wasn't necessarily angry with you," he said again. "Even though I'm pretty sure I implied otherwise. More at your gender in general."

"I figured that out," she said. There was pride in her voice for having done so. "So, I hoped, that maybe this time the line you drew would be less permanent. Partners until you were ready. I could be your partner and your friend."

"You've been waiting?" he asked her. "Hoping someday we'd get trapped in an elevator then burn papers in my apartment?" he teased, bumping her shoulder with his, lightening a moment that could easily go the other direction.

Pulling her hand free, she tucked herself closer to his side. "I admit I didn't see that coming. But the chairs look nice in your apartment."

He laughed. "I'm glad I insisted on getting them. Who knows how long it would have taken for us to have that conversation if we hadn't been trapped."

She chuckled as well and the two of them continued on their walk the rising moon the only witness to the conversations that took place between them. They spoke of the past, of Maluku and Afghanistan, of the adventures they'd been on and the things they'd experienced. It was both familiar and new, the same path they'd walked a thousand times before.

But this time, the destination was different.

They didn't speak of the future, an area still shrouded by mist that neither of them dared brush aside. It was enough they were walking toward it together. It was okay that what was on the other side remained a mystery. Tomorrow they'd be one step closer to solving it and that was all either of them needed.

When she shivered gently next to him, he took her back to the car and headed toward her apartment. "Someday," he said, as he walked her up to the door, "we'll stay out until the sun comes up. That's something to see."

"Sounds nice," she said, tipping her head back toward him. Booth, taking advantage of the move, bent down and kissed her.

It wasn't like any of the other kisses they'd shared. It wasn't a drunken kiss outside a pool hall, or a kiss to earn a chance to spend time with family, or a gamble on the two of them.

It was a stop sign on the moment that would mark a change in who they were to each other. Now there would be everything that came before that kiss, and everything that came after.

Pulling back before it went too far, Booth brushed his knuckles down her cheek. "See you tomorrow, Bones," he said. Patiently, he waited for her to lock herself inside, needing to know she was safe before he walked away.

Brennan stood at the door for a moment, before turning toward her bedroom. For the first time in her life, she thought she understood why everyone was so taken with that emotion called love. What it meant to lose yourself in another.

She'd never felt like this before. Couldn't have defined it if anyone had asked. But she liked it.

Booth told her that someday she would gain this knowledge. At the time, she hadn't believed it.

It was wonderful that he'd been right.


	10. Snow

_A/N: The reaction to the last chapter was so nice, I've written something similar. _

_Synopsis: Booth and Brennan attend a banquet soon after they officially become a couple. No angst._

_The word is from the S in Christmas: Snow_

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Leaning back against the bar, Booth's eyes took in the ballroom, noting the people in attendance and the one person still missing. Anxious, and knowing exactly why, Booth reached behind him to grab his drink, his eyes never leaving the door. If he looked away, even for a moment, he might miss it.

Miss her. And they'd already spent enough time missing each other.

"You here alone?"

The question came from the man to his left and Booth gave Hodgins an annoyed glare. "Only for a few more minutes," Booth said, looking at his watch. "She'll be here soon."

"You didn't pick her up?" Hodgins took a sip from his own drink. He managed to keep his voice curious, carefully hiding the surprise. There couldn't be trouble in paradise already.

"She asked me to meet her here. Wouldn't tell me why." He ended the sharp comments with another sip from the drink. Probably should slow down, this wasn't his first. If she was late, he wasn't going to be sober when she arrived.

It worried him, that she hadn't wanted him to pick her up or walk in on his arm. He'd hidden his dismay well enough that she hadn't noticed, but now he wondered if he should have insisted. This waiting and wondering was going to kill him.

"Angela home?" he asked, knowing he needed to be social. It would help pass the time, he hoped.

"Yeah, with the baby," Hodgins said, a goofy grin breaking out on his face. "She was a little disappointed to miss this though. She's always impressed with the decorations."

Booth would never actually say it, but he agreed with Angela. It was supposed to be some sort of Christmas or winter in July theme, even though scheduling issues meant it was only early June.

The decorators hadn't paid attention to the date on the calendar. The room glowed in white and silver. There was also some pale blue that could be mistaken for white if you didn't take the time to look closely. And the snow looked so realistic, Booth reached out to touch it on his way in, just to make sure it wasn't real.

Candles in the same colors illuminated the room and provided just enough light to allow people to move without tripping. But they still left pockets of darkness for private conversations and quiet moments.

It was stark and haunting and somehow beautiful. And many of the attendees had followed the theme, wearing dresses of similar colors. It made the few who chose to wear brighter colors stand out from the crowd.

He wanted Bones to get there. It was their first public event since making their relationship official. Booth had filled out the paperwork and he thought most of her colleagues at the Jeffersonian knew, but he still wasn't sure how far the news had spread. It wasn't something he was sharing with the fellow agents at work. And Brennan was as private as he was when it came to her private life.

There were secrets inside his head again. And not the kind that made him wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, wondering how he'd gotten himself into that situation. True, they still woke him long after midnight, but now it was to roll over and pull Bones into his arms, because she was sleeping right next to him.

And she carried a secret herself, one that no one but the two of them knew about. He'd cupped his hand around her stomach that morning and breathed in her scent, trying to understand how so much could change in such a short amount of time. He'd never get over the miracle they had somehow created during all the sadness.

"You need to relax," Hodgins said, clapping him on the shoulder. "She would never stand you up. She'll come."

Nodding, Booth finally tore his eyes away from the door and turned his back to it. Standing and staring wasn't going to make her show up any faster.

He managed small talk with Hodgins and several other people he recognized while he waited. His hand kept drifting to his pocket, playing with the tokens he always kept there. Somehow, he spoke what sounded like coherent sentences, but he was always waiting for that moment when she walked into the room.

He'd checked his watch for what seemed to be the hundredth time when he heard Hodgins hiss out a breath. "That explains it," Hodgins said softly. Reaching over, he took the drink Booth had been nursing. "She wanted to make an entrance."

It took a moment for Booth to make sense of the comment and to understand why Hodgins had stolen what remained of his drink. Turning quickly, his focus went immediately toward the entrance.

And there she was.

Booth understood now why she'd wanted to meet him at the event. Not just to make an entrance, as Hodgins had said, but because they never would have made it out of her apartment if Booth had seen her in that dress.

She didn't follow the theme of the evening. She gone with color, a deep blood red that looked almost black in the dim lights of the candles. In another month, that dress would have revealed every secret they carried, but for now it smoothed over the curves his hands liked to touch.

It brushed the floor, each step just barely revealing the towering heels she wore. Their added height would put her lips so close to his while they danced.

There would be no question of what their relationship was after he made it to her side.

The dress was somehow conservative, leaving plenty to the imagination and the most erotic thing he had ever seen her wear.

As if he was the brightest thing in the room, her eyes found him easily and the smile she gave him was just a little bit shy. There was very little opportunity for the two of them dress up and go out like this. When they did, she typically wore black. This was such a departure from normal that Booth was too dazzled to even remember to walk toward her.

Hodgins's chuckle finally got him moving. Heads turned when she entered the room and several scientists who didn't stand a chance with her were also moving.

But one of them had the sense to look where Brennan's eyes focused and when he froze, so did the rest. Dr. Temperance Brennan only had eyes for one man and it was clear who it was.

"Oh, boy," Hodgins said gleefully. Rubbing his hands together, he motioned the bartender for another drink and prepared to watch the show. Angela was going to be pissed she missed the big reveal.

Because you didn't need to be a genius, and this room was certainly full of them, to understand what was in the look Booth and Brennan shared.

He met her at the edge of the dance floor where the light from the candles was the brightest. His hands ghosted over her bare shoulders and down her arms. "You are beautiful," he said, his voice husky. He'd lowered his head down so his lips were close to her ear, managing to hold an intimate conversation in a room where most of the eyes had been drawn to them.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her hands tugged self-consciously at the dress. "Do you like it?"

He licked his lips and laughed, the sound so decadent her skin flushed in response.

"Bones," he said, her nickname filled with dark promises. "Even you, with your best selling novels and scientific words, wouldn't be able to describe how much I like this dress."

Her flush deepened at the words. She could feel the eyes on them. Other men who wanted to compete for her attention and women who wanted to talk to Booth. They'd all seen the two of them behave like this before, when their proximity to each other meant nothing.

Now they were exactly what they appeared to be and she wanted everyone to know it. Because what was happening between them was everything.

There was a strange look on her face as she looked up at him and he raised an eyebrow in question.

"I want you to kiss me," she said softly. "Kiss me so everyone in this room knows exactly who we are to each other. Kiss me so there is no question. I know I don't like public displays of affection, but in this case, I think it might be appropriate."

His eyes didn't leave her face, looking for the sincerity he knew he'd find. "No more hiding?" he asked, needing her to be sure. They'd already taken so many steps together, this was just one more, but he was always going to make sure they were walking together.

When her eyes narrowed, giving him his answer without words, he nodded and backed her gently into the middle of the dance floor. There would be no question about what was going to happen.

One hand came up to cup the back of her neck as she tilted her head. The other rested on her hip."I'm going to mess up that pretty red lipstick you're wearing," he warned.

"I have more," she managed to say as his lips captured hers.

They'd shared a lot of kisses since that day in the elevator. When they'd taken that first step to becoming a couple. Kisses of comfort and love. Of nerves and exploration.

This was like none of them.

Somehow, in a single kiss, there was heat and passion. And love. Even those who'd fooled themselves for years, thinking they had a chance with either of them, were forced to admit that it had passed. For the couple in the middle of the floor there would never be anyone else.

The single kiss was a declaration to the rest of the room and a simple promise between the two of them.

There were audible gasps around the ballroom. Groans as colleagues realized they'd finally lost the best they'd placed years ago.

And a solitary man standing by the bar who started clapping. It was picked up by several other people around the room.

It was short and scorching hot. The first of many kisses between various couples that would take place on the dance floor and in the dark corners. They were only the first.

People were surprised.

And not surprised at all.

Booth pulled back and Brennan reached up to wipe the red from his lips. Thinking about the secret that kiss hadn't revealed, she gave Booth an enigmatic smile, took his hand, and together they started walking toward Hodgins.

By the time they made it to the bar, the blush had faded from her skin. There were offerings of congratulations and gentle teasing as they made their way through the crowd, but it appeared all those who'd known them for years were happy for them.

"Dr. Hodgins," she greeted, reaching for the glass of wine he held out to her.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to describe what just happened in a way that will make Angela happy," he grumbled. "But I can't blame you for going that route. Makes things a lot simpler."

Brennan ignored the comment. "Let's find our table," she said. "I want to be sitting down before the presentations start."

Booth sighed. "I hope they are shorter than the last time we came."

She gave him a smile that made his palms start to sweat. "I hope you have a speech ready," she teased, walking away from him."

"Speech," he echoed, looking at Hodgins who threw his hands up in the air. Knowing he'd be no help, Booth trailed after Brennan. "What speech?"

Giving a relieved hiss to be off her feet, Brennan waited for Booth to sit next to her. "No speech," she said, laughing at the surprised look on his face. "At least not for us."

It was so unlike her, to tease him like that, Booth wasn't sure how to react. Finally he laughed, but there was still a touch of nerves in it. "I might have just tossed you over my shoulder and carried you out of here to avoid giving a speech."

"I think we've given enough of a show tonight, Booth. Try to behave."

His eyes raked from her head to her feet and back again. "With you in that dress, there isn't a chance of that happening."

The reply floated randomly through her thoughts while she listened to the speeches she didn't really care about, and the awards that had nothing to do with them. When everything finally ended and the band began to play, she tried not to smile at the bored look that dominated his features.

"Should we go?" she asked.

To her surprise, Booth shook his head. "Not until I get to dance with you."

When he stood and held out his hand, she took it without hesitation. Pulling her to him, he began to sway gently, enjoying the fact he no longer had to worry about how close he held her or the exact placement of his hands.

Brennan relaxed into him, allowing the strength she had come to rely on to help support her. "Is this what a wedding reception feels like?" she asked curiously.

He stumbled slightly. Pulling back so he could see her face, he tried to understand what she was asking. "A wedding reception?"

If she saw his surprise, she ignored it. "Yes. A wedding reception. Dancing in the center of the room, knowing everyone has their eyes on you. Isn't that what happens at one?"

Booth lifted his eyes to look over her head. He didn't see anyone outright staring at them. "Why are you asking me that now? More people were watching us when we kissed." He hesitated. "Are you thinking about marriage? Because you know that I don't expect or need-"

The flow of words was silenced by a finger on his lips. "No," she said. "Not now. But," she continued softly, "perhaps someday. It wasn't something I ever would have considered, but I love you." She shrugged, not concerned with what might happen in the future. They'd promised each other one day at a time and that's how she was thinking about the two of them.

This time the stumble was noticed by the couple next to them and Booth waved away the concern with a smile. Grabbing her hand, Booth tugged her toward one of the corners the candles failed to clearly illuminate.

"What are you doing, Booth?" she asked when he stood in front of her, his body blocking her from the rest of the room.

"Say it again," he demanded, voice low. "I want to hear you say it again."

"Oh." She smiled. "I love you, Booth." Her features softened with concern. "Should I not have said it here? Perhaps I should have waited-"

Booth didn't use a finger to silence her, but a kiss instead. When he pulled her against him, Brennan knew it was time for them to go.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go get my purse and go upstairs."

He managed to focus enough to shake his head. "Upstairs? What's upstairs?"

"A hotel." Her voice had taken on the factual tone that he adored. "I was afraid this might happen and I reserved us a room."

"Wait," he said, holding out a hand to stop her as she brushed past. "Did you plan all this? The dress and...all of this?" He motioned between the two of them.

"Yes," she said bluntly. "And I have many more things planned if you would just come with me."

And Booth, hopelessly in love with her, had no choice but to follow.


	11. Tree

_A/N: I haven't given up yet…_

_Synopsis: This is a follow-up to the chapter titled Hot Chocolate. You should read that one before this one. Brennan calls Booth at Christmas during the year they were apart and asks him to wait for her in that chapter. In this one, Booth's tour is complete and instead of going home, he goes to Maluku._

_The letter is the T in Christmas - Tree_

The number of trees was disconcerting after being in the desert for so long. They were everywhere. He'd forgotten there could be so many. Or forced himself to forget, because missing something as simple as a tree wasn't something he was prepared to deal with. Not when he was confronting his own personal issues and trying to survive at the same time. Acknowledging even the difference in foliage would have been too much.

Now, he could focus on trees were a canopy that drew his eyes toward windows and open spaces. He found himself tilting his head back at odd moments, just to see them quivering in the breeze. A visual reminder he was no longer in the desert.

And they were green. The color was so bright, it made his eyes hurt. Everything had been nothing but various versions of brown for months. Even his fellow soldiers, with their faces and clothes covered in dust had appeared to be made of those colors. These shades of green, along with the bright flowers of red and yellow, reminded him how far from home he still was.

A month early. They'd managed to free him from his duty thirty days before he was scheduled to be discharged. In an institution where nothing moved quickly and paperwork was often lost, Booth still couldn't believe his good luck. He was done. It was over. Never again would he serve his country in that capacity.

It was time to go back to being a father and an FBI agent. A partner and a friend. All of the things he'd foolishly run away from when he'd been consumed by his broken heart. Making big decisions when you were trying to recover from something else was a mistake. He'd learned that lesson the hard way and wouldn't be repeating it.

When he'd first arrived overseas, he wasn't sure how he'd feel when this day finally came. It had seemed so far away; an impossible moment he could only dream about. He'd left everything behind. His son. His grandfather.

Bones.

And had only heard from two of them until that unexpected call at Christmas. When she'd managed to turn his world upside down all over again.

She'd asked him to wait and he'd agreed to. Not that the decision had required much more than a split second of thought. He'd waited for so long and then they broke the relationship they'd maintained for five years. But one phone call at Christmas had put them together again.

Their conversations had been too short and too far between. Missions for him and crazy weather for her had prevented many of their calls from getting through. And the few times they'd managed to connect had done nothing to diminish his almost obsessive desire to hear her voice. To see her eyes staring into his across the distance.

Touch had been something he could only fantasize about. And smell. The scent of her shampoo when he leaned close to her. Or the lotion she used in the Lab to prevent her hands from drying out. All the little things you never appreciated about a person and then missed like crazy when you were apart.

The military offered to fly him home. A transport to thisa nearby base followed by a connecting flight to the states. He could have been walking the streets of DC right now, taking in the familiar sights, seeing Parker.

Instead, he'd gone in the opposite direction.

In his hand was a single piece of paper. Crumbled until it had begun to tear along the creases. An address to send mail. Coordinates of where her base was located so he could find the exact location on a map. The photo she'd sent with it was tucked in his pocket where he'd kept it since the day it arrived.

He'd used her coordinates to do exactly that. The map was kept carefully folded under his pillow, her location marked in pen. Then, when he realized he was going to be back in the states a month before she was, he used it to plan. Rubbing the paper between his fingers one last time, he also tucked it into a secure pocket.

This wasn't an easy place to get to. But he'd made friends during his time serving and they'd helped him. A soldier's girlfriend who was a travel expert to help with the flights and airport locations. A friend of a cousin to help him with ground transportation. He hadn't understood half of what had happened, but they'd written down the directions and those he had been able to follow.

Somehow, someone out there had decided he deserved one more miracle after the gift he'd been granted at Christmastime.

Now, he was on the final leg of his journey to her side. He wouldn't step this far away from her again. The distance, though difficult, had been manageable. It was the time that had proved to be almost insurmountable.

Bones was at the end of this crazy trip and he would have suffered through anything to get to her. Now he was riding in a jeep, traveling through the jungle. She'd described the area where the team was located, but even she had managed to do it justice.

"Here," his driver said, pulling off into the trees. Booth had been looking up again and he blinked, forcing his eyes down. The road they'd arrived on was smooth that day, but Booth imagined it was nothing but a muddy mess when it rained.

"Are you sure?" Booth asked, sure he misunderstood his driver's heavy accent. There was nothing but more of the trees that had caught his attention the moment he'd stepped outside.

The driver bobbed his head. "Through the trees, down the path. You'll come to a clearing. They are set up there."

Reaching for his duffel bag, Booth set off. The heat he was familiar with, but the humidity was something he hadn't felt in close to a year. It reminded him of summers in DC and Booth felt a pang of longing for home. If it was possible, he'd grab Bones's hand and not stop moving again until the two of them stepped into his apartment. Or hers, he didn't care which. As long as they were together and home.

Arriving in the clearing, he spotted the tents and scientists. But not Bones. A quick question to the man that stepped forward to greet him directed Booth toward her tent. He expected more questions, but none came. The lack of security made him uncomfortable, but it seemed a little late to worry about it now. Dropping his bag inside her tent, he continued down another trail until he arrived at the area they were working.

There she was. Back to him, squatting down with a brush in her hand. Emotions he denied for far too long threatened to overwhelm him and Booth took a quiet breath.

Now that she was in front of him Booth could acknowledge exactly how much he'd missed her.

Would she still feel the same about the two of them? After the phone call at Christmas, they hadn't spoken of it again, both of them accepting it needed to wait until they were together again. Now, here he was, and while Booth wanted to believe nothing had changed, he knew everything had.

They weren't the same people they'd been a year ago. And in order for them to move forward, change was inevitable. But had they changed so much that any relationship between them was doomed to fail?

Daisy lifted her head and spotted him chasing the thoughts away. She opened her mouth to speak and Booth raised a finger to his lips, doubting she could remain silent. But Daisy surprised him, closing her mouth quickly and bending down to say something to Bones. When her mentor nodded, Daisy stepped up from the pit they were working in.

Her path took her past Booth. Pausing long enough to quietly whisper, "she missed you," Daisy disappeared behind him, leaving the partners alone together for the first time in a year.

Booth took a moment to stare. Her hair was lighter, the brown color appearing to have bled from the strands down into her arms. Despite what Booth was sure was obsessive use of sunscreen, her skin had darkened in the sun, a look he'd never seen on her.

"Did you work through lunch again?" he asked, no longer able to stand not being able to see her face. "The diner is too far away, but I'm sure we could find someplace with food around here."

Brennan froze. Booth had seen her stand still when examining a skeleton but this was different. She appeared to be afraid to move, the stillness almost fragile despite its intensity.

Slowly, she put down the paint brush she'd been using to move dirt. Watching her square her shoulders, wondering what she was preparing herself for, Booth waited for her to face him.

Rising smoothly, Brennan turned herself in the same motion, then froze again when her eyes landed on him.

Blue eyes met brown. The thousands of miles that had separated them reduced to less than a hundred feet. It was overwhelming for Booth. He couldn't imagine how it felt to Bones, considering she had no idea he was coming.

His charm smile appeared then faltered when she did nothing but stare at him. Uncomfortable in the silence, he shuffled his feet and tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Did I make a mistake in coming?" he heard himself ask. Maybe surprising her this way hadn't been the best idea.

But going home without her hadn't been something he could tolerate either.

Her head shook slowly back and forth. "Booth," she breathed out, then vaulted from the pit and ran toward him, stopping just before she jumped into his open arms.

"Hey, Bones, why'd you stop?" he asked. "I would have caught you." Caught her, held her, and never let go.

Watching her, Booth stood still while her eyes ran up and down him. His own eyes turned serious when her unsteady hand came up to brush at his cheek. He'd acquired a cut there since their last video chat and she ran a finger down it.

He reached up and put his hand over hers, pressing her palm against his cheek. "This was the closest I came," he said calmly, answering the question in her eyes, "and it wasn't as close as you're thinking. The scratch is from a piece of rock. I was well hidden, but apparently not from flying debris."

She nodded, accepting the explanation. She'd known the truth of what he'd been asked to do, but had worked hard to compartmentalize those fears.

"You didn't make a mistake," she said, answering the question Booth had forgotten he'd asked. "But I have often hallucinated your voice behind me due to my desire to have you by my side. I was afraid this was another one of those times."

She didn't ask why he was there, how he was there. She'd learned over the years that Booth could often pull off what seemed impossible. "How long can you stay?"

"Forever," he offered. When her eyes narrowed, he tried to verbally step back. "Or as long as you'll have me here. I have my discharge papers and have nowhere else I want to be. So I'll stay as long as you want me to. And I'm hoping that's until you're ready to leave with me."

He wanted forever. Thought she might as well. But standing in front of her was a lot different than the conversations held when they were thousands of miles apart.

Reaching down and taking his hand, Brennan pulled him toward the pit she'd been working in. "What do you see?" she asked when they stood at the edge.

Looking at her and then down, Booth shook his head. "Is this a trick question? There is nothing in there. Just dirt."

She nodded in agreement. "Hodgins would disagree with our use of the term dirt, but you aren't wrong. And that's made up most of our days. Dirt. Mud. And the various components of it."

Turning her head toward him, she cataloged him from head to toe again, but Booth recognized she was looking for something different this time. Finally, she gave a sharp nod. "Let's go for a hike."

"Okay," Booth said, confused by how she was acting.

"You trust me?" she asked, hearing the tone in his voice.

He answered without hesitation. "Always. One of only a few people. But you knew that."

"Then come with me. It will be worth it, I promise."

Nodding, he took her offered hand and she led them further into the jungle. Booth recognized that they were climbing a hill and he hoped it wasn't a long path. The canopy protected them from the sun, but it was still warm.

Soon, even that disappeared, and Brennan led them toward a spot that offered them a clear view in every direction.

"I came up here quite often," she admitted, dropping his hand to spin in a slow circle. "Before I called you and after. Sometimes you felt close. Other times I felt every mile of the distance that separated us."

"That almost sounds irrational, Bones," he teased softly. "But I understand the feeling. I kept a map of exactly where you were under my pillow," he said, admitting his own secret to make her feel more comfortable. "I wanted to feel closer to you. Since no matter which direction I looked, the view was the same."

Her eyes softened at the admission. "That's the direction I want us to go." She stuck one arm out and pointed.

The direction was easy for him to figure out. "East," Booth said. "You want to go East." What he couldn't figure out was why.

"Northeast, technically," she corrected.

"You want to go to New Guinea? Or past it to Hawaii?"

"You did study that map," she said. Then shook her head. "I want to go home with you, Booth. That way will take us home." Dropping her arm, she turned to meet his eyes. "My work here is done. You saw that pit. That's all that's left for me here. You said your work was done, too. I want to go home."

It was the best idea he'd heard in a long time. "How long will it take you to be ready?"

She considered the question. Both the meaning she thought he'd intended and the meaning she decided to give it. "It will take me less than a week to finish everything here." The look in her eyes changed and Booth tensed. "Or were you asking how long it would be until I was ready for you?"

"Bones, you don't-"

"I do," she interrupted him. "I owe you an apology for waiting until Christmas to talk to you. I can put my science into words easily, but my feelings are harder. And then I thought it was too late to try."

"It's never too late. And you owe me an apology for nothing." Booth said. Then moved forward and unlike her, didn't stop until she was hauled into his arms. "I should have done this when I first stepped into the clearing. I've missed you," he said, pressing his face into her hair and inhaling. There it was, the scent of her shampoo, of her, that he'd imagined during his loneliest hours.

Missed her. Needed her. Loved her. Everything swirling so chaotically inside him that Booth remained silent, not sure what would come out if he opened his mouth.

When she pulled back, Booth raised his hands to her cheeks and pressed his forehead to hers. And said the thing that was at the front of his mind. "I want to kiss you," he said harshly. "I've dreamt of this moment and now that it's here, I don't know what to do or what to say."

"You can kiss me," she said. "I want you to."

But he remained where he was, his thumbs moving back and forth across her cheeks. "Are you sure?" Booth asked her. "Sure that this...me...is what you want? I'm sure," he added quickly, not wanting her to question his own commitment. "You are what I want. Are you sure about me?"

A single phone call asking him to wait, followed by conversations talking about everything but the two of them as a couple. He hadn't changed his mind, hadn't been able to move on even when he tried. Was the same true for her?

Unsure of how to convince him, Brennan settled on what seemed the most clear. Tipping her head, she kissed him, putting every emotion she felt for him into the press of her lips to his.

When it ended, it wasn't only the sun warming his skin. Now it was coming from inside him as well. "That was clear enough," Booth chuckled. Hands still on her face, he pulled her forward and kissed her again. "You're sure." It wasn't a question and the last of the worry over her feelings faded away.

She smiled and nodded. "I'm sure. Can you wait a week for me to be ready to go home?"

"As long as I'm here with you, I'll stay as long as it takes." He threw an arm over her shoulder and looked back to the East. "Thanks for making that call at Christmas, Bones." He bent and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Are you ready to go?"

She cast one more look into the distance. "I've been ready since Christmas, Booth. Let's go home."


	12. Mistletoe

_A/N: A speedy update! _

_Synopsis: Takes place after the series finale. The night after Booth and Brennan walk away from the Jeffersonian and Brennan is carrying the box._

_The letter is M for Mistletoe._

_OOOOOOOOO_

He carried the single cardboard box into the bedroom and placed it on the corner of the bed. "What do you want me to do with all of this stuff?"

They'd walked away from the ruins of her office and away from the Jeffersonian without looking back. Everything would be different when she returned and Booth found he was okay with that. Maybe the next space would be a little less clinical. He'd never liked the Lab and was pleased it would look different considering what had taken place there.

Looking at it as she rubbed lotion into her hands, Brennan considered the question. "There are a couple of items I want to take out of it. Then you can put it on a shelf in the garage. The Lab will reopen eventually and I want those things to decorate my new office with."

"Even the broken clock?" he asked, pulling it free and waving it around. He looked at the frozen time and shuddering slightly at what it represented, put it on the bed. The healing wound on her forehead was already reminder enough. "What do you want out of here? I'll grab them and get this taken care of. Then we won't have to worry about the kids pulling things out before we're awake in the morning." They'd already placed Jasper high on a shelf where small hands wouldn't find and lose it.

"Good plan," she agreed, knowing how curious their daughter was. Rising, she came to stand next to him. But before she went through the box, she put a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "I'm fine," she said softly. "I see your eyes looking at the cut. Wondering about me. No nightmares about me tonight, okay?"  
He would never stop being surprised by what she knew. "I haven't said there were nightmares," he said, wanting to tell her she was wrong, but unable to lie. "And they aren't always about you," he argued when she only stared at him.

The flowery scent of her lotion drifted past him when she patted his cheek. "You talk when you dream," she reminded him. "It's not always clear, but enough so that I know what's going on. I didn't die in the bomb and my memory is recovering. Now," she said, pulling her hand back and reaching for the box, "let me find what I'm looking for so you can put this away." She started to sort items in the box. "You've got time to lock the house up for the night," she said without looking up at him.

It felt like a dismissal. Booth had been considering doing exactly that until she'd told him to. Immediately, he was suspicious of her motives. "What don't you want me to see, Bones?" he asked. Crossing his arms over his chest, his posture made it clear he wasn't going to go anywhere.

The smile she gave was fleeting. "You can see whatever you want in here. But then you'll want explanations."

His arms fell back to his sides. "I thought you said your memory was coming back. And it didn't seem to impact things like this." Despite an attempt to keep his voice level, the worry was clear to both of them.

"I know the story behind every single item in this box," she replied, her own voice rising in annoyance. "I have hid nothing about my condition and recovery from you, Booth." Knowing they were both on edge from what they'd been through the last several days and months, Brennan took a deep breath. Just because the worst appeared to be over didn't mean the emotions that came with it were gone as well. "But there are no secrets in here. Just things you don't know that I kept."

"Things from old friends? Boyfriends?" he said, unable to stop himself from making this worse.

She didn't rise to the bait. "The only things I've ever kept have been things from you." Her calm voice and simple explanation had him drawing his own breath to settle down.

Turning her head, she watched as some of the tension left his shoulders. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes, really. And since you won't be happy until you see what I'm looking for, sit down and I'll show you."

Now he felt guilty for how he'd reacted. And the things that had just come out of his mouth. "Nevermind, Bones, you don't have to. Grab what you need and I'll put the box away."

"Booth, sit," she snapped, ending the discussion. Without waiting to see if he'd actually listened, she dug down to the bottom of the box and pulled out the large manilla envelope she'd hidden there as she emptied her office. It was singed around the edges but essentially intact, protected from the blast by her desk.

Her annoyance made her want to open it and dump the contents into his lap. There was plenty stuffed inside, which would make the move very effective. Dismissing the idea as childish, she held it out toward him.

He reached out, but instead of taking the offered item, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. When she finally raised her head, he gave her a small smile. "I love you," he said softly, rubbing a thumb along the soft skin of her wrist. "I didn't mean to imply anything or that you haven't been honest with me. If you are too tired to do this tonight, I'd be happy just crawling into bed and wrapping myself around you. There is no hurry to walk down memory lane."

"I am tired," she said, "but being the romantic one in this relationship, you're going to love this." Booth had been nodding in acceptance of her admission when the rest of the sentence had him slowly stopping.

"I'm going to love what's in that envelope?" Dropping her wrist, he finally took it from her hand and unfolded the metal clasp. Reaching inside, he pulled out the first of what felt like a hundred small slips of paper.

He recognized his own handwriting immediately. A note he'd left on her desk asking her to call him. There was a heart near the bottom right corner, something he'd started drawing when he knew no one else at the Lab would see the message. Eventually, he'd stopped writing his name at all, the heart signature enough.

Not sure he understood, he pulled out another piece of paper. This one about lunch and again signed with the heart. The next was about a dinner date and he'd actually written his name at the bottom of that one. Right underneath a line about how much he was looking forward to seeing her.

"Why did you save all these?" he asked. She remained standing next to him and he lifted his head to catch a glimpse of her before pulling more notes from the envelope. All from him and all about mundane things that had little to no impact on the work they did.

"You wrote them," she said, as if it explained everything.

"I know that. I recognize my own handwriting. But there isn't anything important on them."

"I disagree," she said. Sitting down next to him, she took another note from the envelope and looked it over. "This one tells me that you liked my dress. And this one," she continued, pulling another one free, "is signed with a heart. That means you love me. At least, that's what I deduced it meant."

When she tried to reach for more, he put a hand over hers. "Are you telling me," he said in a voice low with emotion, "you saved every note from me that included something personal? Notes I signed with hearts or ones that told you that I loved you? You saved them all?"

"All of them since the day in the elevator. When we burned papers in your apartment and performed your ritual. I might have saved those as well, if they hadn't been reduced to ash."

Shaking his head, he pulled out several more. They were written on scraps of paper and colorful sticky notes. Some only a couple of words and others several sentences long. "But why?"

Tilting her head, she gave herself a moment to put her thoughts in order. "At first," she began, "it was evidence of how you felt about me." He lifted his head and met her eyes and she understood what he was asking her. "It wasn't that I ever doubted it, doubted you," she said quickly. "It just gave me something tangible to look at. A reminder of exactly how you felt. During the early weeks, when it was all so new."

"You didn't stop after a couple of months, Bones. This is years worth of notes." More and more kept appearing in his lap as he pulled them out. Touched beyond words that she'd kept them through the years.

"Because they made me happy. When we were stuck in a case or couldn't meet for lunch, I could reach into that envelope, pull out a note or two and smile. You've made me sentimental and foolish," she added, her voice grumpy. "And you've made me smile, even when you aren't next to me. Once I started, I just never stopped."

Reaching out, she took the notes and stuffed them back into the envelope. "It's the only thing I've never organized. I liked just being able to pull something out at random and reading it."

Booth ran a finger along an edge that was scorched. "I had no idea. And now I wished I'd left more. Written words that were more special, meaningful somehow."

"You don't think the words I love you are meaningful?" she teased. "A simple heart that somehow encompassed everything you felt for me. That you still feel for me." Turning, she put the envelope to the side and reached back into the box. "The only other thing I wanted was this."

Booth scrubbed both hands over his face, preparing himself for what the second item might be. He never doubted her feelings for him, but saving those little notes represented a romanticism about their relationship he'd never attributed to her.

She opened her hand to show him what she'd retrieved.

"I'm not doing well with the guessing games tonight. I had no idea what that envelope held. So what's this one?" he asked, taking it from her palm.

Holding it up toward the light, he turned it slowly. Some sort of acrylic with a green branch inside. "You saved a portion of a tree?"

"Hodgins helped me make it." She shook her head. "Never asked why, though I knew he recognized the plant."

"You'll have to help me out with that part," Booth said.

"It's mistletoe."

He turned to look at her. "I can think of only one moment in our lives where mistletoe means anything. And we weren't a couple yet. Far from it, Bones." He formed a fist around the object, squeezing it tightly.

"It's from that day," she admitted. Reaching out, she peeled his fingers open one by one and took it from him. "You've always been so selfless when it comes to giving me what I want. Even when it came at great personal cost for you. It doesn't hurt to have a reminder of that. And," she continued to prevent him from arguing, "it was a representation of the gifts you gave me that Christmas. A tree. My family."

A hand came down over hers, trapping the remnant between their palms. "You said it was like kissing your brother."

Her eyes sparked. "You have been my partner and my friend. We lost each other and came together again. You are my lover, my husband and the father to our children. One thing you have never been, never could be, is my brother."

The breath he released was shaky with emotion. "I love you too, Bones."

"I know," she said, bending forward to press her lips to his. "Let's put this with Jasper to keep it safe. While you take the box to the garage, I'll put the notes in my office. That envelope was getting pretty full. I'll start a new one when my new office opens."

When their hands pulled apart, the remnant of mistletoe was in her hand. "Go put that away and come to bed, Booth. I know what I want to do next and that box will be in our way."

OOOOOOO

She woke several hours later to find his side of the bed empty. Worried he'd had a nightmare she hadn't heard, Brennan rose and left the bedroom to find him.

He hadn't gone far. He was sitting at the island, his back to her. In front of him, lined up in a neat half circle were two things she recognized and one she didn't.

To his left was the carefully saved mistletoe. It reflected the lone light he'd turned on and was the first to draw her attention. Moving her eyes to the far right, she saw the envelope of notes she'd placed on the desk in her office. Several of them had been removed and were placed on top of it. As she watched, he picked one of them up and rubbed his fingers over it before putting it back in place.

In between was a single sheet of paper. Brennan wondered what it said, and why he seemed to be staring at it.

"I know you're there," he said to her. Casting a look over his shoulder, he shrugged and turned back again. "You know you are always welcome next to me. I've come to count on you always being next to me."

"I thought maybe you had a nightmare," she said, coming forward and pulling out one of the stools next to him. Wanting to ask what the letter was, Brennan held her tongue, knowing he would tell her eventually.

"Just the start of one," he said. He pulled the letter forward and pushed it toward her. "This was on my desk today. Grabbed it before I left, then forgot about it. When the nightmare woke me, I remembered and opened it. Now," he said, glancing toward the clock, "I've been staring at it for way too long. Wondering, thinking." Booth watched her slide it in front of her. "Wanting to wake you up and knowing I needed to let you sleep."

"This is from Cullen," Brennan said, looking at the signature first. "Handwritten." She read it through quickly first, then much more slowly a second time. Lifting her head when she was done, she looked at her husband. "This is quite a job offer." Her tone was level, not giving him any clue to what she actually thought about it.

"Several steps up the ladder," Booth agreed, moving the letter so he could look at it again. "I was accusing you of keeping things from me, not knowing the whole time I had something of my own to share." Shaking his head, Booth tried to organize his thoughts. "I understand why he did it this way first. Better to see how I felt unofficially before making the official offer. Less risk that I'll turn it down."

"You can't turn it down." There was no hesitation in her voice. Her fingers brushed at the cut on her forehead and then a mark barely visible on his cheek. "I'll stay in the Lab. Do the work required there. If a scientist is needed in the field, Aubrey can find someone to work with. Because I'm assuming that's who will take your place."

His eyes widened slightly. "Just like that?" he asked, trying to decide how he felt about her easy agreement at ending their partnership. But he knew their lives had changed, they had changed, and with the Lab currently out of commission, it was a good time to make decisions about their future.

It appeared Cullen recognized that as well. Hence the appearance of this note on Booth's desk.

"I'm not ending our partnership, Booth," she said, easily reading what she saw in his eyes. "No matter where you work in that building, one phone call is all it would take to have me by your side. You know that. And nothing lasts forever. No one will ever be as good as we are," she said smugly. She tilted her head toward the other items in front of him. "Why did you get them back out?"

"To remind myself that some changes are welcome." He tapped a finger on the mistletoe. "That kiss reminded me of exactly how it felt when your lips were on mine. And damn, I liked the feeling just as much as the first time."

"It told me just how far you were willing to go to make me happy. It was terrifying at the time," Brennan said.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. Then or now. "The notes represent another moment when our lives changed. And I will never, ever complain about that change."

"Me, either," she said softly.

He nodded, his eyes drifting towards Hank and Christine's bedrooms. "But now I think about other things as I sit here. I don't worry as much about Hank. But Christine is going to remember some of what she went through. What we've been through as a family. The months I was in jail. Max. The two of us just disappear sometimes with lame explanations. Our hospital stays. Sweets." The list was endless, but he let his voice trail off, knowing she understood.

Brennan was unable to argue with what he said. She'd had the same thoughts the last several years. But they'd tried this once before and hadn't been successful at it. "Will it be different this time?" she asked softly. "Because you weren't happy with it before. And I almost lost you." When her eyes met his, they were a bit brighter than they'd been before. "I can't go through that again. I don't want to."

"And I don't want you to." He reached out and put an arm over her shoulders, pulling her to his side. She shifted the stool to make it more comfortable for both of them. Closing his eyes, he took an honest look at himself, at the aches he dealt with every day and what he wanted for the two children sleeping peacefully down the hall. And when he reopened them, he knew. "I'm ready. Aubrey will still need help. If I need a break from a desk, I'm sure he won't mind if I ride along. And this job won't start right away. It will be six months or more before everything is in place."

"I only want you to do it if you're sure," she said. But inside, there was a rush of relief. His job had always been dangerous. It would be comforting to have a break from the worry that had become a part of her since the day they'd started working together.

"I'm sure. As sure as I can be. And it will be good for you. If my hours are more consistent, you'd be more comfortable going to a dig. But only for a week or two at a time, okay?" he said. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know there are days you miss it and my job makes it hard for you to leave. But I couldn't bear to be away from you for very long."

"There are times you and the children could come along," she said, considering the possibility. But they weren't there yet. "We don't have to decide tonight. Or tomorrow. Let's give it a day or two. Talk to Cullen. We have to be sure. There's no going back this time."

Kissing her again, Booth rose and began to pick up. "Go to bed, Bones. I'll be right there. Morning will be here before we want it to be."

"I love you, Booth," she said.

A smile made a brief appearance. "And I'm grateful for it everyday. It's a relief knowing you'll support me, whatever I decide. Thank you. And I love you too."

Despite him telling her she could go to bed, Brennan waited until he'd taken care of everything. "Whatever you choose, Booth. I'll always be right by your side. I'm looking forward to wherever we go from here."

Booth took her hand. Bringing to his lips, he kissed her knuckles gently before pulling her toward the bedroom. "As long as you're with me, Bones, I'm ready for whatever our future brings."


	13. Angels

_A/N: It has bothered me that I haven't managed to finish the Christmas challenge. So, very late, here is the second to last entry: The A in Christmas, Angel._

_Background Info: After the destruction of the Lab in the final season, Booth has decided to take a job Cullen offered him and leave Aubrey in his place. Brennan is going to stay in the Lab now, leading hopefully to a safer life for both of them._

_I hope you enjoy. _

OOOOOOOOO

The three men sat on the bench watching the family play. The bright summer sun shone down on the trio, but none of them complained about the heat. It didn't bother them, not anymore.

They didn't consider themselves angels. None of them had ever used that to describe themselves. But that's what they were. Angels looking over and worrying about the family and friends they'd loved while they were alive.

And continued to love even after they'd died.

"Did you know that on average, children play outside only four hours a week?" the man in the middle asked. His British accent and repetition of a fact they'd all heard before made the older man on his left chuckle.

"I always worried Shrimp grew up too fast. I'm glad he's giving his kids the childhood he missed out on. I'm not sure he ever felt free enough to run and play like this when he was their age." A small shake of his head expressed the sadness he couldn't find the words for. "By the time I came along, there was already a man inside his little body."

The other man, furthest to the right, straightened his tie. He didn't have to wear a suit anymore, but sometimes it was hard to leave everything behind. "Agent Booth always worried he'd be like his father." Sweets paused and looked past Vincent to Hank. "And while he is nothing like his biological father, he is very similar to the man who raised him." Leaning back, Sweets turned toward the laughing family. "You were his father in every way that counted."

The group fell into a comfortable silence, observing the happy family. They'd worried and watched from a distance, but there was a sense of relief among the group that afternoon.

Hank sat a little straighter after reflecting on Sweets's compliment. "Wasn't how I planned to spend my retirement years, but I can't say I regret it." His eyes remained on the grandson he'd raised. "I worried about him until the day I met Temperance. Then I was still worried that he'd somehow mess the whole thing up. After they married, I still worried. Just not so much."

"It took them too long," Sweets mumbled. "Painful to watch." He still felt a twinge of guilt that the extra time it took them had been, at least partially, his fault.

"The average time a couple knows each other before marrying has been estimated as high as four point nine years," Vincent offered.

"Who are either of you to decide how the path of anyone's life travels?" Hank snapped, always ready to defend Booth. "Seems to me your road to Daisy wasn't very straight either."

Sweets blushed slightly. The corner of his mouth lifted when Christine's laughter echoed in the air. "I miss them," he said softly. "But I'm glad they are so happy. They deserve to be happy. I loved them like family." He shrugged. "Still do. Always will, I guess."

Nodding in agreement,, the men watched as Booth straightened and looked in their direction before shaking his head slightly and turning away again. "He is too smart for his own good," Hank grumbled. "Can't even hide from him in this form."

"So today's the day?" Max asked, coming up behind the bench. He clapped Hank on the shoulder before tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. "He's going to tell the rest of his team? Do you think he's ready this time?"

Another man came to stand beside Max. "Well, he won't have me around to pull him off the straight and narrow," Jared pointed out. "He might have made it the first time without me around."

"This last case they went through hit them hard. Max's death and the danger to their children." Sweets rose from the bench. "He's ready this time."

The group fell silent as they watched the rest arrive. Hodgins and Angela, the bump of her pregnant belly just starting to be visible. Michael Vincent running to play with Hank and Christine.

Arastoo and Cam arrived next with their three boys. That had been the initial plan for this gathering in the park, welcoming the boys to their family. Brennan and Booth also decided it was a good time to tell everyone of their future plans, since the people that mattered most to them would be in the same place at the same time.

Aubrey showed up with more food. He was still single, but since deciding to stay, he and Jessica were spending more time together again. Today, she was unable to attend the picnic with him and he'd come alone.

As wild laughter and only games children understood took place, Booth and Brennan gathered their adult friends around them, not realizing there were more there than just the ones they could see.

"We have an announcement to make," Brennan said. She looked over at Booth and stepped back. The news was his to share.

Hodgins and Angela made eye contact. In the privacy of their own home, they had sensed that things were going to change. "Are you guys quitting and leaving again?"

"Not quitting," Booth said. "Just changing." He looked down at the bottle of beer he held in his hand. "Cullen made me a job offer," he said. Brennan gave him a nod when he glanced at her. "After talking it over with Bones and doing a lot of thinking, I've decided to take it."

In the second group, one not visible to the Booth and the rest, there were cheers at the announcement. But Booth glanced in their direction again.

"I can relax a little now," Hank said. "Jared came too soon. I didn't want Seeley here too. He will be someday, no matter how he worries about it, but not yet."

Jared shook his head. It was something his grandfather had said to him more than once. "Hadn't planned on it, Pops," he said affectionately.

Aubrey slapped Booth on the shoulder, drawing his attention back to the group. Unable to shake the feeling that something or someone was watching them, Booth tried to focus on the man. "Congratulations. I'm sure I'll be able to work with whoever they replace you with."

Booth snorted and took a drink from the bottle he held. "Seriously, Aubrey. You know it's you."

Aubrey shook his head. "Just because it was me the last time, doesn't mean it will be again. There are a lot of agents who will be interested in the position. Some are definitely more qualified than I am."

"Perhaps," Booth agreed. "But only one agent who I think can do the job, working with the team at the Jeffersonian." He glanced at the group of people around him. A family he hadn't been looking for, but now he couldn't imagine not having them in his life. "And I said as much to Cullen. It was one of the conditions of me taking the new position. My job is yours again, if you want it. I don't want the office falling apart without me. We have a reputation to uphold."

"Dr. Brennan?" Aubrey asked, looking toward her.

"Why are you asking me?" she said. "I'm going to stay in the Lab now. If you need someone in the field with you, it won't be me. But, as long as you continue to prove yourself adequate at the job, I will continue to assist the FBI in any way that I can."

"Not as a partner," Booth said, interrupting the chuckles at her announcement. "She's not your partner, Aubrey. She's mine."

Brennan rolled her eyes at the statement. "Not property, Booth," she reminded him with a laugh. He'd expected nothing less.

"Thank you both," Aubrey said. He'd done the job once before. They were the best partnership he'd ever seen. That the two of them thought he could continue what they started was humbling. "I won't let you down."

"I hope it's okay that I change my role, Dr. Hodgins." She shifted her eyes to the man who was now in charge of the Lab. "But if Booth is no longer in the field, my time there is over as well."

As the conversation continued, the three men on the bench rose and joined those standing behind them. It was an interesting and varied group, one that never would have formed without the couple currently accepting congratulations from their family.

Sweets looked around at the group. "They aren't going to need us as much after today, are they?" he asked.

Max shook his head. "No. And that's the way it should be. We'll be here waiting for them when it's their turn. Now it shouldn't be as soon as we worried it might be. This is a good change for Booth."

His daughter had found the perfect match. And he was grateful.

"My boy has always been more capable than he thought he was. He deserves this job. And he'll be good at it." As the senior member of the group, Hank had long ago decided that he was in charge. The rest of the men went along with it, even if it privately amused them. "I think it's time for us to go. Permanently, this time. We've watched over them as long as they needed us to. But I have other people I want to see now."

They'd waited, they all had, to make the final transition. But now their living family no longer needed them and the ones that had gone before them, wives and parents, were waiting for them.

The men met eyes and nodded. But they hesitated for another minute, watching the group. Sweets was the first to begin to turn away, before pausing. "Who's that?" he asked.

As a group, they turned to see a single woman standing just off to their left. The trees of the park were visible through her.

"She's one of us," Jared said. "Dead, like we are."

Because they were watching her, all the men saw a second figure appear, then a third. It wasn't until the fifth that Sweets finally recognized one of them.

"That was the victim in one of the first cases I worked with them. And so was that man," Sweets said, motioning toward the rapidly growing group.

They kept appearing. Men, women, and some children. Slowly, they surrounded the family that had begun to gather around the large assortment of food on the table.

"Who are they?" Jared asked curiously. The ghostly images could do no harm to the living, but the large group that was gathering made him shiver slightly. An unusual reaction for a man that no longer felt what the living did.

Vincent looked around, as the rest of the men did. But because he had more experience in the Lab than the others, he was able to put it together first.

"They're victims," Vincent said, his accent slightly more pronounced as the shock threaded through his voice. "The victims Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth found justice for."

"So many," Sweets said softly. He'd known, in an abstract way, the number of victims they'd helped over the years, but it was different seeing all of those people standing around the group.

"Why are they here?" Jared asked. He regretted never taking the time to thank his brother for what he'd done for him as a child, what Seeley had tried to do for him as an adult. After spending some time in whatever this place would be called, he'd been relieved to realize he might get another chance. Maybe he wasn't the only one who wanted an opportunity to speak to his brother and her wife.

"We stayed to watch over them. Because we love them," Hank said. "I died at the end of my life. But the rest of you," he said, motioning to the men standing around him, "could go stand with that group as well. You were all victims that Seeley and Temperance helped. If you look past the fact that you love them, why else would you stay?"

Max shrugged, never comfortable sharing exactly what was going on inside his head. But this one seemed easy to him. "They want to thank them. For what they did. For the last twelve or fifteen years. For giving them a voice and a face when no one else could." He looked around and made eye contact with all of them. "They, and the team they built around them, did what no one else thought was possible."

"But that part of their lives is ending," Sweets said, picking up on what Max was thinking. "Agent Booth is going to take the job Cullen is offering and won't go out in the field anymore. Dr. Brennan will stay in the Lab. She'll still give back faces, find names, but it won't be quite the same. Many of the remains will be ancient." The crowd of images appeared to have stopped growing. They stood in a loose circle around the group, many of them with smiles on their faces. "These people are here to thank them. Even if the group can't see them. Then they'll say good-bye. Just like we're going to do."

"All these people," Hank said, echoing Jared's earlier thoughts. Reaching up, he brushed at his eyes. "I'm so very proud of him."

A hand clapped his shoulder hard and Hank turned to see Max behind him. "Our kids did good," he said softly. "Despite everything they went through, our kids did just fine."

Vincent hissed out a breath, breaking the moment. "Look," he said, pointing. "Look at that."

A gentle breeze began to blow around the group of spirits. They began to fade away, turning into a rainbow of colors that swirled around the living members of the Lab as it lifted into the air. It should have been violent, but it barely moved the hair of the people eating lunch in the park.

"Us, too?" Jared asked, looking around.

"Yes," Max said. There was sadness in his eyes, but also joy as he looked off into a distance they were all just beginning to see. "There are other people who are waiting for us now."

As he faded and swirled with the rest, Max directed himself toward his daughter, brushing past her cheek gently as he became another color in the rainbow. She lifted her head, enjoying the feel of the breeze on her skin, discarding the idea that for just a second, that air had felt like individual fingers dancing against her cheek.

Hank considered waiting, stepping back from the swirling wind. But in the distance, past the colors that danced, he could see his wife waiting for him. And with her smiling face in his view, he allowed himself to be taken up, passing his grandson just long enough to whisper in his ear that he was proud of him. Then he joined the rest, disappearing in an explosion of light and color that no one else in the park saw.

Booth's head snapped up, before he shook it slowly and continued eating. For just a moment, he was sure he'd heard his grandfather's voice whispering in his ear. A desire he'd had many times since his grandfather's death. But this time it felt real enough that the hair stood on his arms, despite the summer sun beating down on him.

Brennan looked over and tilted her head in question. Booth smiled and threw an arm over her shoulders. Pulling her against him, he brushed a kiss against her temple.

"I'm fine, Bones," he said, looking around at his family. And for the first time in a long time, he actually meant the words.


	14. Star

_A/N: Better really, really late, than never, right?_

_Synopsis: Set not long after Blackout in the Blizzard. Brennan surprised Booth after a trip out of town. No angst. Just romance and fluff._

_This is the final letter: Star for the last S in Christmas. _

Booth arrived home well after dark. Stepping out of his vehicle, he drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. Above him, a single star twinkled in its position near the moon. He knew, thanks to his partner, that it was more than likely a planet. Which one, he had no idea. But still, he wouldn't have known something like that a few years ago. He knew a lot of new things because of her.

It wasn't a surprise that his thoughts had strayed in that direction. It seemed they did so often these days, after spending months trying to keep her out of his head. But like most things, the more you tried to avoid thinking about something, the more it took over. And no matter how he'd tried to focus on other things, other women, Bones had always been right there.

Shaking his head, he closed the door to his SUV, disrupting the silence of the evening. A partner, a friend, and now a...girlfriend, he decided with a chuckle. She wouldn't like the description. But they were in a relationship. And not like the one they'd been in before. Now he could touch her hand and kiss the back of her neck beneath her hair. There were also the fantasies he no longer had to pretend didn't exist.

Finally, all the steps and wrong turns and twisted roads had brought him right to where he wanted to be.

They'd been friends, enemies, separated by thousands of miles and feelings they couldn't acknowledge. He'd loved her and wished he could hate her, just to get some separation from what he felt for her. That last one hadn't worked out so well. He'd never figured out a way to do anything but be her friend or love her.

He'd missed her. It was easier to acknowledge that now. Missed what they'd had and almost lost. Had he ever asked her about her year in Maluku? He'd pushed her away so he could ignore the feelings that hadn't diminished. But after knowing almost everything about her for five years, it seemed weird to realize there was a year long gap in his knowledge.

Should he ask or would it open old wounds better left closed? He'd like to know what working in a paradise had been like for her. Had she made the discoveries she'd hoped, or like him, had their time apart led to uncomfortable truths? Maybe, if the opportunity came up, he'd see if there was anything she wanted to share. Anything that wouldn't dredge up things better left in the past.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he rounded the SUV to grab his bag. He was almost too tired to think about this now and he felt like he was thinking himself in circles. He'd been out of town for almost a week, consulting on a case in Chicago, and had been less than pleased to be sent out of town so soon after his first date with Bones. The few phone calls they'd shared hadn't been anything like sitting across a table from her, seeing her smile or hearing her laugh. And now, he decided with a glance at his watch, it was too late to call her. Plans would have to wait until the following morning.

The elevator was fixed, but not entirely trusting it, Booth took the stairs. Being trapped in it with Bones had been okay. Frustrating, trying to solve a case from there, but still okay. What had occurred after was worth the aggravation. Trapped in it alone, wanting nothing more than to fall into his bed, wasn't something he cared to live through. The exercise of climbing the stairs was good for him after being stuck in an airplane.

A flicker of light from beneath his door caught his attention as soon as he rounded the corner. Without clearly planning the move, he dropped the bag and drew his gun. He was more annoyed than concerned. A week away from home and now he was going to have to deal with some idiot breaking into his place. Apparently the universe was out to get him this week.

Beneath the door, the light was indistinct and weak enough, that Booth was sure it was a flashlight. It wavered and disappeared as whoever was in his place passed in front of the door. In the back of his mind, he recognized something wasn't quite right about the situation. Most people breaking into a place were in a hurry to leave. Whoever was inside should be running out carrying his television, but despite his hesitation in the hall, no one appeared.

He approached slowly. Feet dragging from exhaustion seconds before now stepped lightly enough not to be heard. His eyes scanned the door, taking in facts and cataloging them quickly. The door was closed securely, with no signs of it being forced open and there was only one person who could get into his place without causing damage.

At eye level there was a note taped to it with his name on it. Moving from concern to confusion, he reached and grabbed the folded paper, immediately recognizing the handwriting.

_It's me. Don't shoot me._

Butterflies of surprise dancing through his veins. She'd come to his place unannounced. But for what? Anticipation turned back to concern as he contemplated that the week away had given her too much time to think. She'd once said she didn't change her mind. But she had about giving them a chance. It was entirely possible she'd changed her mind back to her original conclusion again. And was waiting on the other side of that door to break his heart.

Booth shook his head. Didn't matter what illogical conclusions she'd come up with during his week away. He wasn't letting her go this time without a fight.

Securing his gun, he returned to the end of the hallway to grab his bag before approaching his door for a second time. A deep breath gave him time to shove away the anxiety. And to recognize there was something cooking behind that door and it smelled delicious. She wouldn't cook for him if she'd changed her mind. Right?

Trying to turn the knob, he was both amused and pleased to find himself locked out of his own place.

Digging for his key seemed like too much work. "Bones?" he called, rapping his knuckles against the door. "Can you let me in?"

He heard what sounded like heels approaching his door. A click of the lock and the entrance of his apartment opened to reveal the woman he'd missed a whole lot the last week.

It wasn't just her image that greeted him. It was also the stronger aroma of whatever food was waiting.

His senses were overwhelmed. Frozen, he stood in the door to his own apartment. She was wearing heels and an emerald green dress that made his brain misfire for several seconds. And was that her mac and cheese? A glance past her revealed a room lit with candles, explaining the flickering lights that had initially attracted his attention. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous again. "What's going on, Bones?"

She smiled and opened the door wider. "A surprise for you," she said, moving back to let him in.

"You don't like surprises," he said automatically. Stepping past her, he dropped his bag on the floor by the door. It looked like a romantic dinner had been set up for just the two of them. "What is this?" he asked, turning back to her.

Her smile faltered slightly. "It's dinner," she said, falling back on the literal explanations to cover her nerves. "I thought you might be hungry. You haven't had any real food for a week."

That was a safe conclusion. He doubted anything he'd consumed would fall on her list of acceptable meals. "I am hungry," he agreed. And for more than just dinner, but he wasn't going to say that. "But this," he said, waving his hand to the scene around him, "is more than just dinner. And you," he continued, before she had a chance to speak, "you look amazing in that dress." The hand that had waved around the room, now brushed down the sleeve to the bare skin at the end of her arm. The touch was light enough that it made her shiver in response.

"More than dinner," she agreed, her voice lowering in response to the emotions his touch brought forth. "A date for the two of us. You always plan them, so I thought it was my turn."

When she tried to chew on her bottom lip, waiting for his response, he brushed a thumb across the skin. "I'm underdressed for a fancy date," he said. "And I like taking care of you." His hand continued sliding until it could cup her cheek and he brought his lips down to kiss the skin his thumb had already touched. "I missed you," he admitted, stepping back from her. "What's for dinner?"

"Mac and cheese. A few other things. Our food." Flustered from the kiss, she smoothed her hands down her dress and moved into his kitchen to prepare it. "How was your week in Chicago?"

"Long," Booth said, grabbing his bag and tossing it into his bedroom, before securing his gun. He was relieved that he'd picked up the place before he left, so he wasn't embarrassed by what Bones had walked into. "Can I help?" he asked when he returned.

She shook her head as she turned back toward the kitchen. "Everything is almost ready."

Booth watched the candlelight shimmer on her skin and allowed himself to just appreciate her. He'd always acknowledged, at least in his own mind, that she was beautiful. The standard he judged all other women by, though he wasn't entirely sure she'd understood that remark. But there were moments that her beauty simply captivated. And for the first time, he could stare without apology, knowing that he no longer had to hide exactly what he felt for her.

"If I have a few minutes, I'm going to go clean up," he said behind her. He couldn't sit across from her feeling like he'd gone a week without a shower. Even if he'd taken one only that morning. But the stress of trying to wrap up his work, then flying in a cramped airplane made him feel like a slob compared to what she looked like.

Temperance Brennan was too beautiful to be standing in his kitchen. How she'd ever come to the conclusion that he was worth her time, Booth would never understand. Sure, he'd worked hard to be the kind of man she'd be willing to work with, but somehow that had turned into a friendship he hadn't expected. Which had then turned into so much more.

Coming home to find her waiting for him in his apartment was the best thing that had happened to him all week.

Knowing they were working toward this happening a lot more was one of

the best things that happened to him in his entire life.

She threw a glance over her shoulder, her eyes traveling down and back up again. There was nothing in her gaze that should have caused a reaction, but he fought back the desire that suddenly flared because of it. "You look fine," she said before turning back around. "But do what you need to feel more comfortable."

Nothing he wanted to do was going to make him more comfortable. But, after giving the idea a few seconds of contemplation, he decided he didn't care.

His steps were silent as he came up behind her and she jumped slightly when he brushed the loose hair from the back of her neck and pressed his lips there. "I can't," he said, his breath ghosting across the sensitive skin and making her shiver, "sit across from you, looking too gorgeous for words, without cleaning up." And before she had time to respond, he'd stepped away from her again, disappearing down the hall toward his bedroom.

The breath she took was deep as she tried to settle the nerves of anticipation that danced through her. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she gave herself over to them for a heartbeat, allowing herself to enjoy what she had denied for too many years. Faintly, she could hear the sound of running water as he made himself presentable and she shook her head. It was a sound she'd heard often during their partnership, after late nights finishing paperwork, or early in the morning when she'd showed up with coffee before he was completely ready for work.

But now. Now she could walk down the hall and open the door to join him. Picturing the look of shock on his face, she chuckled before turning back to finish the dinner preparations. Not yet. Not tonight. But soon.

The last dish was placed on the table when he returned from the back of his apartment. The room was filled with the scent of food and whatever Booth has used to clean up with. It was warm and welcoming.

"Feel better?" Her eyes scanned over his figure. "You look like you're

dressed for something important," she said, noting the button down shirt and dark pants.

"So do you," he pointed out. "But I still feel like I can't compete. I love that dress."

She brushed her hands down the front self-consciously. "I remember that you like me in green," she said with a shrug. Taking the time to dress not for herself, but for someone else's enjoyment, was a new experience for her. And his obvious pleasure with her choice both pleased and embarrassed her. "Are you hungry?

"Definitely," he said, but his eyes never left hers.

"For food," she clarified, the blush obvious even in the dim light from the candles.

He flashed a charm smile. "Of course, for food. What else could I be talking about?" Rounding the table, he pulled out her chair and motioned for her to sit.

It wasn't until he'd taken his own seat at the table that he finally looked at the food. "This is an...odd assortment," he finally settled on.

There was mac and cheese, which she'd mentioned. And lasagna. Vegetarian knowing her, but he often enjoyed it, even if he complained good-naturedly about it. But there was also take out and the snack foods that he ate, even though she frequently complained about their nutritional content. And an assortment of fruit and vegetables. It was too much food for the two of them.

Glancing up as he reached for the first dish, he caught the look of insecurity before she tried to cover it. "Bones?"

Shrugging, she fiddled with the silverware next to her plate. "Our favorites," she said softly. "The things we've always enjoyed together. The ones that when I eat, when you aren't around, I always associate with us. I know there's too much. But I couldn't decide."

His heart had skipped a beat at the thought that something as simple as takeout reminded her of him. "We won't have to worry about cooking tomorrow. And everything here is perfect." When she forced herself to raise her eyes, he met the look. "And everything includes you, Bones. This is perfect. No better surprise after a week away from home than a beautiful woman and all the foods I love."

Knowing he'd never lie to her, she nodded and began to fill her plate. The conversation flowed easily between them, ranging from Booth's time in Chicago to the latest experiment in the Lab. One, because Hodgins and Wendel were in charge of it, that hadn't gone according to plan.

"Cam sent them both home," Brennan said as they cleared the table together. There were casual brushes against each other as they worked, both enjoying the feeling of ease that surrounded them.

Booth snorted. "She should have. Won't they ever learn?"

"Experimentation is very important in science," Brennan lectured. And Booth paused to just listen. "Even failed experiments are an opportunity to learn about a subject. "But," she said, her lips fighting a smile, "I don't believe the two of them will ever learn some lessons."

"Don't fight the smiles," he said, brushing her cheek with a kiss as he walked past to put the last dish away. "I love your smile."

Her hand came up to touch the spot he'd just kissed. "You're too good at this," she said. Booth worried he'd made her feel insecure when a look crossed her face that he easily recognized. "I'm going to have to, how does it go, up my game?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said, looking around at the still flickering candles. "I think you're doing just fine. Better than fine. It's not a challenge of outdoing each other, Bones."

"I know that," she said. "But I like to make you smile, too."

"You could have been waiting here with nothing and I would have smiled, Bones. Don't doubt yourself. I will treasure this memory. It isn't only words that have meaning." As he moved to blow out the first candle, Booth looked at the time and was surprised to see how late it had gotten.

"I'm going," Brennan said, reaching for her purse. "It's been a long week for you and you must be tired."

Walking back, Booth put his hand on hers. "Stay," he said softly. "I'll grab your spare bag from my SUV and you can stay. And I have some spare items you've left behind."

Sure he was asking for something she wasn't quite ready to give, Brennan felt her heart beat a little faster. It had always been easy to tell him everything, even the feelings she didn't understand. But there was also worry that her explanations would make him take a step back from her. And that was something Brennan was sure she could no longer handle.

"We aren't there, yet, Booth," she said softly, knowing she had no choice but to be honest. Her blue eyes lifted to his and there was apprehension there. "I don't want to go too fast. We've known each other for so long, but this…," she trailed off and bit her lip, unsure how to explain. "This is new and fragile and," her shoulders lifted as she took a deep breath, "and I don't want to mess it up by taking a step before I'm ready," she finished her shoulders falling as she breathed out the rest. "But tonight isn't the right time. That's not why I did this."

She wasn't ready, Booth knew that. He no longer worried that she didn't want him, because every action proved that she did. His anger might be gone, but she still hadn't lost the last of her imperviousness. But she was close, and he was going to be right there waiting when she finally let the last wall down.

His chuckle was warm and settled her nerves. "I know that, Bones. And as much as I would like to have you under me and over me, you're right, tonight isn't the night." His eyes drifted from hers to the clock and then the window before coming back again. "But it's dark and late and the idea of you driving home at this time of night makes me nervous. That's all."

Her head tilted as she considered his words and Booth waited patiently. He wouldn't argue, no matter what she chose, but he would feel much better if she wasn't out on the roads at this time of night.

There was simple honesty in his voice and it wouldn't the first time she'd spent a night there. But it would be the first since agreeing to try and be with him as more than just partners. Still, the idea of not having to drive home was tempting. And it meant she'd get to be there in the morning.

They were already spending considerable time together outside of work, but Brennan found herself wanting more. The last week without him had seemed never ending. Coming to a decision, she nodded. "I'm sleeping on the couch," she said. There was no room for argument in the tone. "And you'll take care of breakfast."

"Done," he said easily. The couch demand hadn't even come as a surprise. He knew how her mind worked. "Thanks, Bones. If you take care of the rest of the candles, I'll get your stuff."

Watching him slip out the door, Brennan removed her shoes before blowing out the rest of the candles. When he came back into the apartment, Brennan met his eyes and realized she'd found the thing she'd been looking for since she was a teenager.

Home.


End file.
